


Some Storms

by Brackenfire



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Original Clans (Warriors), Warrior Cats, we don't have enough of these, yay another original clan story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-18 12:19:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19334395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brackenfire/pseuds/Brackenfire
Summary: Pinefrost is an aging medicine cat in HuntClan, and he has yet to receive a sign from StarClan showing him what cat will succeed him. Finally he does - but there's just one problem: Stormkit has no interest in being a medicine cat. What will it take to get him to accept his destiny? And will he have the skills to care for the Clan when Pinefrost is gone? The road ahead of them is long and dark - not even StarClan knows....Some storms are hard to forget...DISCONTINUED IN FAVOR OF 'THE WORLD'S WIDE OPEN'





	1. Allegiances

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another story with fully original Clans, cats, prophecies and plot! Since no one has EVER done a story with their OWN Clans, I present you a fresh new take and a new idea!
> 
> Or something.
> 
> I'm bad at updating, so if there's long gaps between updates, it's not dead, it's just on hiatus. If it dies, I'll be sure to let you know.
> 
> NOTE ON ALLEGIANCES  
> These will change as I grow the Clans and make new characters, and existing ones are changed. I'm trying to keep everything straight, but if you see errors between here and the story let me know.

**HuntClan**

LEADER

  * Splashstar – blue-furred tomcat with white-tipped tail and paws, green eyes



DEPUTY

  * Tuftyears – a tortoiseshell tom with fluffy tufts of fur on his ears



MEDICINE CAT

  * Pinefrost – black, white, and ginger (calico) tom, green eyes



WARRIORS

  * Sweetriver – white she-cat with soft blue eyes
  * Sunfur- ginger tom with amber eyes 
    * Apprentice: Jaypaw – gray tom with blue eyes
  * Oakfur – big tabby tom with white paws and chest 
    * Apprentice: Badgerpaw – black and white tom with blue eyes
  * Twisttail 
    * Apprentice: Aspenpaw – black with white paws she-cat with amber eyes
  * Tipsky – gray she-cat with white chest, paws, tail tip, and face
  * Mallowwhisker – brown dappled tom
  * Dappledawn – tortoiseshell she-cat
  * Morningflower – white and gray she-cat
  * Firefall – ginger tom with green eyes 
    * Apprentice: Petalpaw – White she-cat with black points
  * Flywing – black and gray she-cat with long fur and plumy tail
  * Talonslash – big tabby tom
  * Dustfur – tabby she-cat
  * Whiskerfur – white tom
  * Applebranch – ginger tom
  * Foxtail – ginger tom with white paws and tail



QUEENS

  * Skyleap – creamy she-cat (kits: Petalkit and Stormkit)
  * Duskeyes – tortoiseshell tabby [‘torbie’] she-cat (kits: Jaykit, Aspenkit, and Badgerkit)



ELDERS

  * Yulethorn – mottled tom, mostly blind with old age
  * Flowerear – tabby she-cat



**WaveClan**

LEADER

  * Riverstar – delicate gray she-cat



DEPUTY

  * Heathersong – gray and white she-cat



MEDICINE CAT

  * Fawnstep – tiny brown she-cat with a white chest and paws, amber eyes. 
    * Apprentice: Midnightpaw – solid black she-cat, green eyes



WARRIORS

  * Willowtwist – gray she-cat with blue eyes
  * Frogleap – ginger tom
  * Sorrelfly – ginger she-cat
  * Flamethroat – black tom with white spot on his throat 
    * Apprentice: Twistpaw – brown she-cat
  * Mouseleap – small gray she-cat
  * Whiskersplash – black and white tom
  * Flowerfoot – gray she-cat with white points



QUEENS

  * Nightsong – ginger and white she-cat (kits: Dandelionkit, Skykit, Brackenkit)



ELDERS

  * Huntclaw – young brown tom, retired due to injury



 

**DuskClan**

LEADER

  * Furzestar – dirty brown tom with unruly fur and a temper



DEPUTY

  * Snakestrike – brown tomcat with dark stripes, green eyes



MEDICINE CAT

  * Echobreeze - white and gray blind she-cat with black points



WARRIORS

  * Roseleaf – tabby she-cat
  * Whisperbreeze – tabby and white she-cat
  * Cloudtouch – black and white tom (tuxedo) 
    * Apprentice: Orchidpaw – white she-cat with gray tail and paws, blue eyes
  * Dusksoul – black she-cat
  * Graywing – gray tom
  * Iceheart – white and gray tom
  * Timberfur – brown mottled tom
  * Thornblossom – white she-cat with black paws
  * Palebloom – dilute tortoiseshell she-cat
  * Brackentail – tabby tom
  * Skyfeather – black and white she-cat



QUEENS

  * Bluetail – blue she-cat (kits: Thistlekit, Ivykit)
  * Tallshadow – long-legged black she-cat (kit: Yewkit)



ELDERS

  * Darkshadow – black tom



**FireClan**

LEADER

  * Whitestar – huge snow-white tom



DEPUTY

  * Lynxtail – dilute tortoiseshell she-cat with a tuft of fur at the tip of her tail and thick neck fur



MEDICINE CAT

  * Willowfur – fuzzy gray she-cat



WARRIORS

  * Chestnutfur – brown tom
  * Leopardnose – spotted brown she-cat
  * Daisyfern – tabby and white she-cat
  * Maplewish – red she-cat
  * Redpelt – ginger tom
  * Kestrelclaw – black and brown tom with long claws
  * Dapplepelt – mottled black and white tom
  * Snowbreeze – white and ginger she-cat with blue eyes



QUEENS

  * Starlingheart – black and white tuxedo she-cat (kits: Robinkit, Pouncekit, Emberkit, Dawnkit)



ELDERS

  * Ferretscar – brown tom with a long scar down his face
  * Wasptail – black and gray she-cat



 


	2. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pinefrost is old. Really, that's all this chapter establishes.  
> And we meet a lot of HuntClan.

Pinefrost knew he was getting old. His bright calico fur had faded, his muzzle going from its natural black and gold to a fraying white. He had been HuntClan’s medicine cat for moons upon countless moons. It took a very special cat to be a medicine cat, and StarClan would send medicine cats a sign when they found a cat to be their apprentice.

               But Pinefrost hadn’t had a sign. And he knew that his time in HuntClan was drawing to a close. Splashstar often asked if Pinefrost had heard anything. He even spent many nights at the Starpool, hoping and praying to StarClan for a sign— _any_ sign would do!

               So, as he lapped up the tansy leaves he had taken to eating every night for his sore joints, he sighed again as he thought about his desperate Clan, and what would happen to them if he left them without a medicine cat. And he settled down stiffly into his nest, tucked his nose under his paw, and prayed for a sign until he fell asleep.

               He woke up at the Starpool. Pinefrost leapt to his paws. How had he gotten here?

               “Relax, my dear.”

               Pinefrost’s heart pounded as he turned around. Juniperfur stood there, her white and black fur shining in the moonlight. Her paws swirled with star shine, and her pelt was lean and sleek. Her ears were unmarked, and her shining blue eyes were clear and free of strife. Pinefrost’s heart melted as he stared at his litter-sister.

               “Juniperfur,” he finally rasped, choked with emotion. The last time he had seen her was before she had died, fell underneath the claws of a badger. All because he had little battle training.

               “Don’t grieve, dear brother,” she purred, coming forward and brushing muzzles with him. His body vibrated with the force of his own purring, and he had to struggle to focus on her words. _StarClan, I missed you_ , he longed to say. _I’m so sorry. I couldn’t save you. I couldn’t save myself. You’re…_

               “Pinefrost.” She pulled away far too soon and fixed him with a serious gaze. “Your time in HuntClan is ending.”

               His purr died in his throat. Hope rose like a bird. “Does this mean… Have you picked an apprentice for me?” he whispered, his fur bristling excitingly.

               Juniperfur dipped her head. At the same time, a loud peal of thunder echoed over the Starpool. Pinefrost jerked his head up. Clouds were rolling in with unearthly speed, lightning flashing in them. As he stared, he suddenly realized that instead of white, the lightning was a vivid green.

               “You will know this kit when you see him,” Juniperfur replied. “Some storms are hard to forget.”

               Pinefrost turned to look to his sister, alarmed, but her outline was already fading.

               “No! Juniperfur, please!” He leapt forward, pawing at her shape. His paw went through her like breaking through water. “Please don’t leave me again!” His heart ached.

               “I’ll always be with you, brother,” she whispered.

               “Juniperfur!” he wailed like a kit, throwing himself forward. The stone under his paws disappeared and he yelped as he tripped into the Starpool.

               “Pinefrost!”

               He jerked awake, only to find himself belly-deep in the water pool in his own den, spluttering. He splashed out of it, shivering, as he shook out his wet pelt. With a hiss, he spun to see who had dared to interrupt his dream.

               Firefall was standing at the entrance to the den, looking concerned. “Why are you swimming?” he asked, then shook his head. “No time. Skyleap is kitting!”

               His wet fur forgotten, Pinefrost immediately began to dig through his mind for what herbs he would need. He took a deep breath and shook himself out again. “Go tell Duskeyes to keep her kits out of the den. Take them to the apprentices’ den, take them to Splashstar for all I care—I am going to need room to help Skyleap.”

               Firefall nodded and disappeared, the ferns swishing behind him. Pinefrost made a hasty leaf wrap—borage, thyme, tansy just in case—and, snatching it up, darted out of the den.

               The near-full moon floated high over the camp, the stars shining down in the endless Silverpelt sky. There were soft murmurings from the warriors’ den. Splashstar was emerging from his den, likely roused by the low wailing that was echoing through the camp. As Pinefrost took a deep breath of night air, he saw Duskeyes gently urging her sleepy kits out of the nursery.

               “Why do we have to get out of our nest, Mama?” Jaykit whined, his bright blue eyes fuzzy with sleep, and his long gray pelt sticking in every direction.

               “I was having a really great dream,” Aspenkit yawned, “and I was as big as a badger, and I was chasing a rabbit…” Her black pelt blended in with the shadows, and only her white paws showed where she was.

               “I was warm!” tiny black and white Badgerkit wailed from where he was being carried by his mother. Firefall slipped out of the warriors’ den and gently took Badgerkit from his mate.

               “You can be nice and warm again here in a moment,” Duskeyes promised. “We’re going to go sleep with your father for a little bit so Skyleap can rest.”

               _Skyleap_. Pinefrost was so caught up in watching the family that he had almost forgotten about the queen. He limped across the clearing as fast as his stiff joints could carry him. Pushing into the nursery, he hurried to the back, where Skyleap was stretched out, moaning, with her mate Talonslash crouched by her head. He was licking her face and ears, whispering words of soft encouragement.

               “Talonslash, I need you to be useful,” Pinefrost growled. His everything ached and he was still wet and stiff, and although he knew what promise the new little kits held for the Clan, he was grouchy anyway. _Couldn’t these little bundles have waited until dawn?_ he thought grumpily. “I need you to get me a stick for Skyleap to bite down on and have Splashstar get some water-soaked moss from my den.”

               Talonslash hesitated.

               “She needs it!” Pinefrost snapped, bristling. Talonslash dipped his head and darted out of the den. Pinefrost turned his attention to Skyleap, running one paw over her belly.

               “Is it supposed to hurt this much?” Skyleap moaned. A rustle behind Pinefrost made his ear twitch, and before he could respond, Duskeyes was back, crouching by Skyleap.

               “You won’t remember the pain once you see your little bundles,” Duskeyes murmured reassuringly. “Just focus on Pinefrost—he knows what he’s doing.”

               “I think there’s just two,” Pinefrost muttered. “Now—listen to me very carefully—take a deep breath and— _push,_ Skyleap!”

               The queen yowled and trembled, and a tiny bundle slid out onto the moss. Duskeyes darted over and grabbed it, nipping the sac with her teeth. Tiny wails echoed through the den.

               “That’s one, Skyleap,” Pinefrost urged. Talonslash returned with a stick and laid it in front of his mate. “Bite down on that if the pain is too much,” he instructed. “Talonslash, I need you to leave. Duskeyes and I have this taken care of.”

               “But—,” he tried to protest. Pinefrost bared his teeth in a snarl.

               “I can’t work with you in here to trip over!” he hissed. “Out! Splashstar!” he shouted.

               The leader, who had come in to drop off the bundle of soaking moss, dipped his head hastily and ushered Talonslash out of the den.

               “Let them work,” the leader insisted, bodying him backwards.

               “I’ll be back, my love!” he called. “Stay strong!”

               “Now— _push!_ ” Pinefrost barked.

               The stick splintered in Skyleap’s jaws as she yowled again. Duskeyes ducked to grab the other kit, nudging the first one up to Skyleap’s belly. Pinefrost ran his paw over her belly and was relieved to feel no more tiny bodies.

               “One tom and one she-cat,” Duskeyes purred. “They’re beautiful!”

               “You did well, Skyleap,” he murmured, nudging the moss closer. She lapped up a few mouthfuls before turning her attention to her new kits. The she-kit was white, with black ears and paws like her father. The tom was solid gray, except the tip of his tail, which was black. Pinefrost pawed through the wrap and pushed the borage over to Skyleap. “Eat these, they’ll help your milk come,” he said softly before turning and padding slowly out.

               _StarClan, I’m too old for this._

               He met Splashstar halfway back to his den, and to his warm nest and dreams of Juniperfur. Talonslash had escaped his leader’s clutches and was back in the den with his mate. Duskeyes was returning to the warriors’ den and to her mate and kits.

               “Firefall told me you went for a midnight swim,” Splashstar said humorously. Pinefrost glanced down at himself and saw that his pelt had dried in spikes. Too tired to really care, Pinefrost sat down with a wince.

               “You know,” he joked weakly, “most cats my age would have retired by now.”

               A shadowed look entered Splashstar’s eyes. “Any news from StarClan?” he asked.

               “Actually…” Glancing around to make sure no cat was listening, Pinefrost began to tell Splashstar in muted tones about his dream with Juniperfur.

               “And she said, ‘some storms are hard to forget’,” he finished with a sigh.

               Splashstar had sat down as well, and was staring off to the side, obviously thinking hard. “It hasn’t rained in a few days,” he said slowly. “Maybe there’s a storm coming?”

               Pinefrost shook his head tiredly. “I think it’s more cryptic than that.” Exhaustion pulled at his everything. “Can we riddle this out in the morning?” he rasped. “I need some rest.”

               Splashstar didn’t look too thrilled but dipped his head anyway and let Pinefrost shamble away. When the grizzled medicine cat lay back down, he closed his eyes hard and willed himself to return to his dream with Juniperfur. But when sleep finally returned, it was dreamless.

               He awoke the next morning to a camp abuzz with news of Skyleap’s kitting. Yawning, he stretched stiffly and headed out into the clearing.

               The air was thick with heat, not unusual for the height of greenleaf. The dawn patrol seemed to have already left, as few cats milled about. Jaykit, Badgerkit, and Aspenkit were play fighting with Firefall in the clearing while Duskeyes dozed. Talonslash was exiting the warriors’ den and heading for the nursery. Two apprentices, Whiskerpaw—a solid brown tom—and Foxpaw—a ginger and white tom with big paws—were padding side by side out of the nursery, purring. Splashstar was speaking with his deputy Tuftyears—a tortoiseshell tom with fluffy tufts of fur on his ears—beside the Tallrock.

               Pinefrost shambled over to the fresh-kill pile, poking through the meager offerings. Clearly no patrols had gone out hunting yet. With a sigh, Pinefrost picked up a shrew and a plump squirrel and glanced around for a place to eat them.

               The Clan’s two elders—Yulethorn and Flowerear—were sunning themselves on a flat rock that faced the direction of the rising sun. Pinefrost wandered over, humming a greeting.

               “Well, if it’s not Pinefrost,” Yulethorn rumbled. His sight had failed him in his age, but no cat’s nose or ears were sharper. Flowerear, only a few moons younger than Yulethorn, had retired with him so he wouldn’t have to be alone in the elders’ den.

               “The only cat who refused to retire,” Flowerear purred rustily. “Come to share some prey with us?”

               “If you’ll have me,” Pinefrost returned jovially. Yulethorn shifted over and gestured with his tail at the rock.

               “The warmth helps relax your stiff joints,” Yulethorn meowed, bending down and sniffing at the squirrel. Pinefrost purred as he settled down, letting the heat seep into his bones.

               “Have you had a sign about who will be your apprentice?” Flowerear asked.

               “It’s about time for you to retire,” Yulethorn teased, taking a bite of the squirrel.

               “I think so,” Pinefrost replied, gnawing on the shrew’s leg. “I spoke with Splashstar about it last night after Skyleap’s kitting, but I can’t talk about it because we haven’t figured out what it means yet.”

               Flowerear purred rustily. “You and your secrets, Pinefrost,” she teased.

               They sat and basked in the sun, eating and chatting idly, until Pinefrost finally rose to his paws. His joints felt freer than they had in many days, and he was refreshed.

               “If you’ll pardon me,” he mewed, dipping his head, “I must go check on Skyleap and the kits.”

               “We still have yet to see the little furballs,” Yulethorn rasped with a purr. “All the young’uns have been in and out of the nursery all day looking at them, so we figured we’d wait our turn.”

               “They’re beautiful, when you get a chance to see them,” Pinefrost rumbled, waving his tail in farewell as he padded towards the nursery. The dawn patrol had returned, carrying prey, and another hunting patrol had gone out while he had been chatting. Pinefrost ducked into the cool dark of the nursery, meowing a greeting.

               “Hello, Pinefrost,” Talonslash purred, standing up from the back of the den. “Come to check up on the kits?”

               “And their mother,” Pinefrost replied, padding up. Skyleap looked up from where she was watching her kits nurse. The black and white she-cat was still nursing, kneading Skyleap’s belly with paws that almost disappeared into her mother’s black belly fur. The little gray tom, as Pinefrost watched, rolled away from his mother’s belly and yowled loudly. Skyleap nudged him in close with her hind foot; he burrowed into her fur and lay there.

               “How are you feeling, Skyleap?” the grizzled medicine cat asked. “Is your milk coming okay?”

               “Judging by their full bellies,” Skyleap purred, “I would say so.”

               “Good.” Pinefrost sat down, sniffing at the tiny bundles, stomachs round as berries. They smelled like milk and lavender. “Have you decided on names?”

               “I believe so,” Talonslash murmured. “That’s what we were discussing when you entered.” He stretched his striped tail forward and touched the little she-kit’s head. “This is Petalkit, because her pink pads look like flower petals.”

               “And the little tom?” Pinefrost said, sniffing at the gray kit’s distended belly, full of milk. He smelled healthy—just sleepy.

               But he froze as Skyleap answered, with a mew soft and full of love.

               “That’s Stormkit.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We meet Stormkit, and he learns of his destiny.

Without waiting to be invited in, Pinefrost barged into Splashstar’s den. “We need to talk,” he demanded. Splashstar, eating his fresh kill, looked up in startled bewilderment.

               “About what?” he meowed, looking confused.

               “About the prophecy. And…” Pinefrost glanced over his shoulder. “I think it’s Skyleap’s kit.”

               Splashstar’s eyes widened. Pinefrost began to note the reasons: Juniperfur’s prophecy the same night Stormkit was born; the fluffy gray pelt with the thick gray clouds; and the repetition of ‘storm’.

               “I think you may be right,” Splashstar said slowly, sitting up in his nest. “But how do we tell Skyleap and Talonslash, the two strongest warriors in the Clan, that their kit is destined to be a medicine cat?”

               “Moreover,” Pinefrost muttered, a new dread gripping his heart, “how do we convince Stormkit to be my apprentice?”

 

Stormkit and Petalkit tumbled and play-fought in the clearing. Petalkit latched her teeth in Stormkit’s tail, sending a jolt of pain up it.

               “Ow!” he cried, jerking it free. “That’s mean! No teeth—Father said so!”

               “Well, Father isn’t here,” Petalkit teased, going down into a playful crouch. She wagged her hindquarters in the air. “Come on, don’t be such a bump on a frog!”

               _I’ll show you who’s a bump on a frog!_ Stormkit leapt on his sister, who yowled in surprise, and they tumbled away. Petalkit kicked him off with a well-placed blow from strong hind legs. Stormkit tumbled away, yelping, until he crashed into some cat’s paws.

               _Mouse-dung!_ He rolled to his belly and leapt up. It was—oh, StarClan, what was his name?—the big ginger, black, and white tom with the whitening face and clear blue eyes gazed down at him.

               “Be careful, little kits,” he rumbled, touching his nose to Stormkit’s head. “Our Clan needs you two to grow up big and strong.”

               Stormkit tipped his head. The old cat’s gaze was fixed firmly on him, hardly glancing at Petalkit, whose mews had fallen silent.

               _Speak of my sister…_

               His attention diverted, Stormkit turned to see Petalkit creeping up on him. She froze in mid step. Growling playfully, Stormkit leapt on his sister, who yelped and wrestled with him.

               “Stormkit, come here please.”

               Stormkit paused and looked up, Petalkit rolling away and chasing her tail. Skyleap and Talonslash were standing a few pawsteps away with—what was his name? Oh, yes— _Splashstar_ and the black and white and ginger tom from before. His heart began to pound. _Am I in trouble?_

               Nervously, he padded over. “Y-Yes, Mother?”

               “There’s something we have to talk to you about, Stormkit.” It was Splashstar who replied. “You aren’t in trouble, little one—but would you please come with us to my den?”

               Stormkit nodded anxiously, none of his worries soothed. Nervously, glancing back at Petalkit, who had stopped tumbling around to watch her brother, he scampered after Splashstar the others.

               Splashstar’s den was a cool place in the middle of the big rock that stood in the center of the clearing. His nest rested at the back, with a lichen curtain across the front. His nose wrinkled and he sneezed as the low, fuzzy branches tickled his face.

               Splashstar sat down with the multicolored tom, while Stormkit’s mother and father sat beside him reassuringly. Stormkit glanced around at the den. _If I wasn’t so scared, this would be awesome! How many other kits get to go into the leader’s den?_

               “Stormkit, you aren’t in trouble,” Splashstar repeated. “You haven’t done anything, and we aren’t upset with you—in fact, quite the opposite.” He purred.

               Stormkit glanced up at Talonslash. His eyes were burning with an intensity that Stormkit didn’t recognize, but when he looked down at his son, his gaze softened and he touched the gray kit’s nose with his ear.

               “Wh-What is it?” Stormkit stammered. Then it was the colorful tom—StarClan, he was bad with names—that spoke, in a rusty voice like the elders used.

               “Stormkit, as you know, I’m the medicine cat,” he rumbled. “I share tongues with StarClan in my dreams, and they tell me things. Things that I need to know to help cats, things that I need to know to keep HuntClan safe, or things that will help keep HuntClan the strongest Clan in the forest.” He dipped his head. “Now, I’m sure you and your sister have noticed—I’m not the youngest starling to fall out of the nest. I’m getting old—most cats my age would have retired by now. But for me to retire, I have to have a successor. And my successor is chosen by StarClan—it takes a very special cat to be a medicine cat. And _you_ , Stormkit, have been chosen by StarClan to be my successor.”

               It took a moment for the big tom’s words to sink in. When they finally did, his eyes widened and his mouth fell open. “ _Me?_ ” Stormkit squeaked.

               “Yes you!” Skyleap nuzzled her kit so hard it almost pushed him off his paws. “My beautiful son, growing up to help the Clan!” Her purring was so loud in Stormkit’s ears it almost drowned out what Splashstar was saying next.

               “…need to help Pinefrost in his den,” he was meowing. “A good medicine cat needs to know every herb and what they do.”

               “Wait!” Stormkit exclaimed, leaping to his paws. “Shouldn’t you ask me what I _want_ instead of just what—what _he_ says I need to do?” He jerked his tail angrily at Pinefrost.

               “Stormkit, this is a great honor,” Skyleap meowed, sounding startled. “It’s not every cat that gets chosen to serve their Clan in such a way.”

               “But—But I don’t _want_ to be a stinky medicine cat!” he cried, staring wildly at his father, and then his mother. They both wore strange expressions—as if they had figured he would be opposed to the idea, but had hoped for the best. “I wanna hunt! I wanna learn to fight and go on patrol and be a _real_ warrior!”

               “Stormkit, being a medicine cat is a very important job,” Pinefrost meowed, taken aback. “Without a medicine cat, there would be no cat to heal the warriors’ wounds, or cure them when they’re sick, or help bring new kits into the world.”

               “Then have some other cat do it!” he insisted desperately. “I wanna be in the woods and hunt things and…” _I don’t wanna smell like musty leaves and be trapped in camp my whole life!_ Why wasn’t his mother saying anything? Why wasn’t his father coming to his aid? Did they _want_ him to do this? Panic began to well in his chest.

               “Please calm down,” Splashstar soothed. “Let’s talk about this.”

               “No!” Stormkit wailed, feeling dismayed. “I wanna be a real warrior!” Without waiting for a response, Stormkit spun around and raced out of the den, his heart throbbing and his legs shaking.

               _I don’t wanna be a medicine cat! I wanna be a warrior!_

 

“From this moment forward, until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Petalpaw.” Splashstar glanced around at the assembled Clan. “Your mentor will be Firefall.”

               The big ginger tom stepped forward and touched his nose to the black and white she-cat’s head. She was shaking so much it was visible. Stormkit shuffled his paws in the dirt, his heart racing.

               It was four full moons after his conversation with Pinefrost and Splashstar. The harsh chill of leafbare was beginning to penetrate the dusty leaf-fall air. It would snow before too long, the warriors said.

               His mother had tried to speak to Stormkit on numerous occasions to get him to accept the idea of being a medicine cat, but he was keen on being a real warrior.

               _Medicine cats just hide in camp all day and sniff around dusty leaves and they don’t hunt or fight,_ Stormkit thought yet again. _I’d rather be out in the woods like a real warrior._

               Splashstar turned and fixed his bright blue gaze on Stormkit. His expression was unreadable.

               “I call down from StarClan to watch over this young apprentice as he trains to learn your ways,” Splashstar meowed, “and show him the way his paws should travel on the path of life.”

               Stormkit almost bristled. He knew that Splashstar was talking about his refusal to be a medicine cat. But Splashstar continued.

               “Stormkit, from this moment until you receive your warrior name, you will be known as Stormpaw. Your mentor…”

               _Please not Pinefrost, please not Pinefrost,_ please _not Pinefrost_ …

               “…will be Flywing.”

               Stormpaw spun around. A delicate black and gray she-cat was coming towards him, with long fur and a plumy tail. Her eyes were the brightest, most startling blue Stormpaw had ever seen. As she stepped forward and bent to touch noses with her apprentice, Stormpaw stretched up to meet her and their muzzles collided with a little more force than he had intended. He flinched.

               “It’s okay,” Flywing murmured reassuringly. “I was excited on my first day as an apprentice too.”

               “Stormpaw! Petalpaw! Stormpaw! Petalpaw!” The cry rose up from the assembled Clan, and Splashstar had to wave his tail for silence.

               “Now, just as the naming of new apprentices keeps the Clan strong, so does the naming of new warriors. Whiskerpaw, Foxpaw, come forward, please.”

               There was a startled moment of silence, and then the two littermates stepped up to the base of the rock. They obviously hadn’t expected this—Whiskerpaw’s feet were muddy from his recent hunting patrol, and Foxpaw’s fur was messy. One of his ears was turned in on itself. Dustfur and Applebranch, the two toms’ mentors, looked about to burst with pride.

               Stormpaw tipped his head. He had stopped paying attention to the two soon-to-be warriors and was watching Pinefrost. The aging medicine cat was watching him with a strange look in his bright eyes, and as their eyes met, Pinefrost rose stiffly to his paws and limped back into his den.

               A pang of despair gripped Stormpaw’s heart. Ever since he had run out of Splashstar’s den all those sunrises ago, Pinefrost had seemed to age by the day. More and more guilt dug into Stormpaw’s body like sharp claws—what _would_ happen to HuntClan if Pinefrost died without an apprentice?

               Then he shook himself. He would just have to find another cat, that’s all.

               “Whiskerfur! Foxtail! Whiskerfur! Foxtail!”

               Stormpaw was jerked out of his reverie by the Clan cheering the new warriors’ names. Joining in, he managed to push Pinefrost out of his mind. _I’m a warrior apprentice, and that’s what matters._

 

That night, after his tour of the territory with Flywing, Petalpaw, and Firefall—on which they saw the other three Clans’ territories (he couldn’t remember what they were called, though)—he padded wearily towards the nursery, a thrush in his jaws.

               “Wait!” Petalpaw stopped, her eyes shining. She set down her mouse to speak. “We can sleep in the apprentices’ den now!”

               A new joy trilled through Stormpaw as he realized she was right. Purring, they changed course and headed for the low-growing willow tree, underneath which was the apprentices’ den. When they entered the cool, dark den, they found Badgerpaw already in there, dozing. He raised his head sleepily when they entered.

               “Hey guys,” he purred. “We remade Foxtail and Whiskerfur’s old nests for you two, towards the back.”

               Waving their tails in appreciation, the two newest apprentices headed for the back of the den, picking their way over the other nests. Stormpaw found one freshly lined with crow feathers that smelled faintly of Foxtail. Settling down, he put the thrush down and stared at it.

               “Isn’t it great? We’re apprentices now!” Petalpaw purred, her musical mew barely registering in Stormpaw’s distracted mind.

               “Yeah, of course,” Stormpaw murmured. _What if StarClan hates me for not being a medicine cat?_

               “Don’t be such a bump on a frog,” Petalpaw teased. “Tomorrow we’re going to learn how to hunt!”

               He should have been happy. This was what he wanted, right?

               Then why did he feel so guilty?

 

Pinefrost sighed, dropping his head where he sat in Splashstar’s den. “How am I ever going to find an apprentice?” he rasped, feeling his age more than ever.

               “Stormpaw just has to come to realize his destiny in his own time,” Splashstar soothed. “Calm down, old friend. StarClan picked Stormpaw for a reason, and they’re never incorrect.”

               Pinefrost couldn’t find the energy to respond. His days were all but numbered, and now, with the onset of leafbare looming ever closer, he was desperate to find another pair of paws to assist him. _What if I have to tackle greencough by myself again? I nearly got sick last time; the older I get, the more vulnerable I get…_

               “Pinefrost, stay with me.”

               The elderly cat raised his head. Splashstar looked at him expectantly—he had obviously begun speaking without Pinefrost’s attention.

               “Sorry, Splashstar, what was that?”

               The leader sighed. “I said, maybe we should have Flywing let him help you sometimes. Like we have the apprentices take care of the elders, Stormpaw can help you with your herbs.”

               Pinefrost nodded absently, more instinctual than soothed. “What if he resents it?” he fretted. “What if he decides more firmly than ever that he doesn’t want to be a medicine cat after working with me?”

               Splashstar sighed again. “What is it with medicine cats and finding the worst in everything? You know, your mentor Waterleaf once found a dead butterfly and stirred the whole camp into a panic by insisting it was an omen that we would get crushed by DarkClan.”

               Pinefrost straightened his back. “Waterleaf probably knew what he was talking about,” he stated firmly, his tail twitching.

               “Oh, I’m not saying he didn’t.” Splashstar’s gaze sparkled mischievously. “We were crushed by DarkClan later that moon, when their patrol fell down the border slope in that mudslide and smothered us all.”

               Despite himself, Pinefrost purred.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormpaw starts his warrior training for real this time.

The next morning, Stormpaw woke up after a fitful night of sleep to Flywing poking her head into the den. Petalpaw’s nest was empty, as were the other three. His heart began to pound and he leapt to his paws.

               “Did I oversleep? I’m so sorry!” he cried, his exhaustion vanishing.

               “You had a big day yesterday, I can imagine you were tired,” she soothed, flicking her plumy tail. “Come on, your sister is already up and waiting for you to begin training.” She vanished out of the den with the willow whispering behind her.

               _My first day as an apprentice and I’m already messing it up!_ After a hurried washing, he bounded from the apprentice’s den to find Flywing and Firefall speaking. As he watched, a ginger tom— _Sunfur_ , it was Sunfur—approached them and spoke softly. Flywing turned to glance at Stormpaw as he trotted up.

               “It seems that Splashstar wants to speak with me,” she said apologetically. “Firefall agreed to take you out with Petalpaw and teach you some basic hunting techniques.”

               Stormpaw hesitated. Why would Splashstar want to speak with his mentor? Knowing what he and his parents thought about Stormpaw and his decisions, it couldn’t be good. Scowling, he scuffed the dirt with a wide paw.

               “Sure,” he mumbled.

               “I won’t be long,” Flywing promised gently, touching Stormpaw’s head with her nose before trotting away after Sunfur. Firefall came up to Stormpaw.

               “Why don’t you grab a bite to eat—a hunting patrol just came back,” he said briskly. “Then you and Petalpaw meet me at the entrance to the camp and we’ll go on to the training hollow.”

               _What in StarClan could Splashstar be saying to Flywing?_ Stormpaw mused.

               “Are you listening, Stormpaw?” Firefall asked.

               “Yes,” he said distractedly, wandering away, all the while still grouching to himself. _Why can’t they just let me be happy?_

               Before he knew it, he was following Petalpaw and Firefall out through the entrance to the camp. The trees and bushes were bright with many oranges, browns, reds, golds, and yellows. It would soon be leaf-bare, the warriors said, with all the snow that forced the prey far underground and out of reach.

               Stormpaw brushed past a plant and stopped as its sharp scent filled his nose. It had fuzzy leaves with rounded edges and smelled sharp like bile but sweet like honey. Bending closer, he flicked his tongue out and tasted the plant. The fuzz stuck to his tongue like the fur of a vole.

               “Stormpaw!”

               He jerked his head up. Firefall had stopped a few fox-lengths ahead and was looking back, Petalpaw at his side.

               “What’s this plant?” he asked before he could stop himself. Firefall shrugged, obviously unconcerned.

               “I don’t know; plants are Pinefrost’s specialty. Come on, we came out here to learn to hunt,” he dismissed, twitching his tail in an invitation for Stormpaw to follow.

               Suddenly feeling sheepish, Stormpaw dashed after him. That was right, he wasn’t a smelly medicine cat, he was a _real_ warrior, destined for greatness, and today he would learn to hunt and fight like any other cat.

 

They trained, with Firefall showing them how to hunt and stalk, until sunhigh. Then Flywing joined them just as Stormpaw pounced on another leaf that tried to skitter away in the wind.

               “It looks like Firefall taught you well,” she purred appreciatively. “How about we try out those techniques with some real practice in the field? See which apprentice can catch the most prey?”

               Petalpaw looked excitedly at Stormpaw.

               _I’ll beat you!_ he thought determinedly. _And then that’ll show Splashstar and Pinefrost that I’m meant to be a_ real _warrior!_

 

Flywing stopped just off one of the paths leading through the forest. A faint flowery scent tickled Stormpaw’s nose, but he ignored it.

               “There’s no shame in not catching anything,” Flywing reminded him. “Even the best warriors come back empty-pawed sometimes. Let’s try here; what can you scent?”

               Stormpaw opened his mouth. For a moment, all he could smell was that flowery aroma, but he pushed it away and tried harder. A musty scent filled his nose.

               “Mouse!” he whispered. Flywing nodded and stepped back to give him room.

               Stormpaw focused on it until he heard a tiny shuffling noise to his left. Turning his head, he saw a tiny body shifting a leaf; a pink nose shuffled into view, followed by a wide brown body. It was a fat mouse, snuffling for nuts and not paying attention to the cats.

               Stormpaw dropped into a hunting crouch. _Paws spaced evenly, keep your tail still, make sure the prey is upwind… There’s that plant!_

               He suddenly froze. Behind the mouse, he had caught sight of the fuzzy green leaves again. His tail tip twitched at his lack of concentration; a leaf rustled. The mouse jerked his head up, saw him, and, with a terrified squeak, sped off.

               _No! Mouse-dung!_ Stormpaw launched himself after the mouse, pounding across the ground. He slammed a paw down on the mouse’s tail, but it jerked it free and fled into the leaf litter.

               Thoroughly embarrassed, Stormpaw risked a glance at his mentor. Flywing’s expression was unreadable.

               “Everyone misses a catch sometimes,” she purred. “But you need to keep your focus while hunting, or that will happen.”

               Stormpaw nodded. The overpowering scent of the fuzzy plant filled his nose. As Flywing walked away, beckoning for Stormpaw to follow, he cast one last look back at the plant. Then he shook his head and darted after Flywing.

               _I need to stop getting distracted by plants, and focus on prey!_

 

By the time they returned to camp, Flywing carried a vole and a shrew. Petalpaw had caught two mice and a thrush, and Firefall had a squirrel. Stormpaw was empty-pawed, at the back of the patrol, his tail dragging and head bowed.

               “Chin up,” Flywing said after depositing her catch on the fresh-kill pile. “Not every apprentice catches things on their first day. Why don’t you take some of this to the elders and Pinefrost?”

               At the mention of Pinefrost, Stormpaw immediately thought of the fuzzy plant, and then was startled at himself. How did he, with his awful memory, recall the plant in such clarity? He could recall the exact smell and taste of the fuzzy plant, and exactly where it grew.

               “Stormpaw!”

               Startled, he jumped slightly and looked up at his mentor. She flicked an ear.

               “Honestly, you can’t even keep your mind in camp,” she half-teased. “Take some prey to the elders and Pinefrost, and then you can rest for the remainder of the day.”

               He nodded, snatching up the fat squirrel and the thrush. Without acknowledging two of the other apprentices as they ran up to Petalpaw, demanding to know how well they did today, he plodded away.

               With a muffled mew, Stormpaw pushed into the elders’ den. The two elders— _StarClan, I can remember a stupid plant but I can’t remember half of my Clan_ —were dozing in their nest, telling stories to…to… As he turned to face Stormpaw, Jaypaw’s name suddenly flashed into his head.

               “Come to listen, Stormpaw?” he asked. “Yulethorn is telling the story about when Huntstar, Firestar, Riverstar, and Darkstar made the Clans!”

               “No thanks,” Stormpaw mumbled, setting down the squirrel in front of Yulethorn and— _what’s her name_ — _Flowerear_. “I have to take this to Pinefrost.”

               Flowerear tipped her head at Stormpaw, giving him a strange look. She began to say something, but then stopped herself and bent to sniff at the squirrel. “Thank you, Stormpaw, it looks delicious,” she murmured.

               With a sigh, Stormpaw turned and walked out.

               Pinefrost was tapping at the pool in his den when Stormpaw entered. He dropped the thrush next to the old cat’s nest and muttered, “Here.”

               Pinefrost turned. His eyes sparkled. “Ah, Stormpaw. While you’re here, would you help me?”

               _Ugh_. “Sure,” he sighed. “With what?”

               Pinefrost gestured with his tail toward the herb stores. “Can you help me sort through the herbs that are old or dry? Take out the useless leaves and pile them up over here, please.”

               Stormpaw padded over to the leaves and began pawing through them, thoroughly upset. His first day of training wasn’t going at all like he had expected.

 

Four days later, and he still hadn’t caught any prey. While the rest of the apprentices had to take care of the elders, Stormpaw had to help Pinefrost with his stupid herbs. Flywing seemed to be losing faith in her apprentice, as he kept getting distracted during training, hunting, patrol, even moss-gathering. Once, he had let a shrew escape literally right over his paws when he stopped to sniff a flower.

               Angrily, Stormpaw growled and kicked a poppy head. It bounced away, bumping into the paws of a cat who entered the den. Stormpaw glanced up and saw his mother, Skyleap. Her blue eyes were gentle in the dimness of the den.

               “Hey, Stormpaw,” she mewed gently. “Petalpaw said I could find you in here.”

               “How much prey did she bring back today?” Stormpaw mumbled crossly, slashing through a dry leaf.

               “Don’t be so bitter,” she soothed. She sat down beside the pool, dabbing a paw into it. Ripples spread across the water. “Where’s Pinefrost?”

               “Out gathering more tansy,” Stormpaw muttered.

               Skyleap was quiet for a moment before murmuring, “Dustfur wrenched her shoulder while hunting today. Do you know what would help her? She sent me to fetch some herbs.”

               Not really paying attention, Stormpaw pushed some tansy towards his mother, and then knocked a couple of poppy seeds out of the head he had abused. “No more than two poppy seeds,” he sighed, “and all of the tansy.” As he turned away to begin sorting through the watermint, he suddenly froze. _Did I…just…?_

               “It seems like you’re learning from spending all this time with Pinefrost,” she purred. When he didn’t reply, she paused. “Stormpaw, are you alright?”

               Shaking his head hard, paws suddenly weak, he mewed, “Yes, I’m okay.” He padded to the pool and lapped up a few drops.

               “Try to relax,” she soothed, coming over and licking the top of his head gently. “It will be okay, darling.” Then she turned and padded away. Stormpaw couldn’t shake his anxiety.

               _I can’t remember the cats in my own Clan, I can’t remember how to hunt a rabbit compared to a mouse, I can’t even remember which nest mine in the apprentices’ den is half the time! How did I know what to get Dustfur?_

 

Splashstar stopped Skyleap as she padded away with the leaves and the poppy seeds. “I thought Pinefrost was out gathering tansy with Mallowwhisker,” he asked. “Are they back already?”

               Skyleap shook her head mutely, flicking her tail at the medicine den. Splashstar let his gaze drift. A sharp sneeze echoed through the camp, and a wide gray paw pushed some dusty, rumpled leaves out into the clearing. Splashstar’s eyes widened.

               Flywing approached him, obviously not seeing Skyleap as the other queen padded past her and into the warriors’ den. “Splashstar, can we talk?”

               The blue and white tomcat didn’t answer immediately. Stormpaw poked his head out, sniffed at a poppy head he had discarded, then snatched it up in his jaws and disappeared back into the den.

               “Splashstar?” Flywing said again.

               The leader shook himself and turned to the creamy she-cat. “Yes, Flywing?”

               She glanced around to see if any cat was overhearing. The elders were sunning themselves, all the other apprentices were out with their mentors, most warriors were either sleeping or hunting, and Tuftyears was rolling in the dust in the sunlight at the edge of camp.

               “I feel like you made a mistake trusting me with an apprentice,” she admitted.

               “What do you mean?” he asked, startled.

               “I mean…” She shuffled her paws in the dirt. “Stormpaw…is very attentive. And I can tell he’s trying really hard. But…he hasn’t caught a single piece of prey. He gets distracted more easily than the rest of the apprentices put together. He gets more upset and counts his losses rather than his wins when he misses a catch. Jaypaw overpowered him in battle training yesterday, and Jaypaw’s half his size.”

               Splashstar glanced back at the medicine den over her shoulder. Should he tell her about Pinefrost’s prophecy?

               The sound of pawsteps made him raise his head. Tuftyears had come over, dust clouding his pelt—although, Splashstar noted absently, with his dust-colored pelt, it was hard to tell whether it was dirt or shadows.

               “You’re a fine mentor,” Tuftyears murmured to his mate, pressing against her side lovingly and licking her cheek. “Stormpaw is just special, that’s all.” He threw a meaningful glance at Splashstar with clear amber eyes. Splashstar nodded.

               “Come to my den, Flywing,” he murmured. “There’s something I’d like to tell you.”

 

That night, Stormpaw dreamed.

               He woke up standing on the edge of a rocky cave. The half-moon was shining high over him, with every star in Silverpelt gleaming like tiny suns. Unsure where he was, Stormpaw turned around.

               Inside the cave, something glittered. Cautiously padding forward, Stormpaw stopped at the edge of a round pool of water. It sparkled and shone like all the moonlight in the world was trapped inside. He couldn’t see the bottom. Water poured out of the rock in a gentle, silent waterfall, cascading into the pool below with a soft bubbling sound.

               “Greetings, Stormpaw.”

               Startled, he turned. A big black and white she-cat was standing there, tall with narrow shoulders, a long tail, unmarked ears, and bright blue eyes. She was sparkling like she had descended from starshine.

               “Who are you?” he asked, flattening his ears. “Where am I?”

               “My name is Juniperfur,” she said, dipping her head. “I am Pinefrost’s sister.” She sat down. “And this is the Starpool.”

               _Starpool, Starpool, Starpool…where have I heard that name before?_

               “You have a very long path ahead of you, Stormpaw,” she murmured. “My brother has had his eye on you for a long time.”

               _Your—? Oh, oh, Pinefrost_. Stormpaw stared down at the starry pool. “What do you mean, I have a long path?”

               “Let me put it this way.” Juniperfur rose and stepped up to Stormpaw’s side. “Do you see them?”

               For a long moment, Stormpaw didn’t know what she meant, and then he saw them. On the other side of the pool, ranks of cats began to fade into view. Stormpaw suddenly felt very small. Some of the cats had bright, shining fur and outlines like Juniperfur. Some were so faded that Stormpaw could see through their bodies to the rock behind them.

               “Who are they?” Stormpaw whispered. Fear settled into his pelt. Facing all these strange cats, in this strange place, he felt smaller than a beetle.

               Juniperfur didn’t answer. Instead, a black and ginger mottled tom stepped forward towards Stormpaw. His eyes were two different colors—one green and one blue. He dipped his head.

               “My name is Sunspirit,” he murmured. “My own mother feared me from the moment I opened my eyes. No other cat in my Clan ever had eyes like mine. No cat would mentor me. I fled from my camp, desperate to find a place to belong. I had a dream from a cat that came long before me that told me I must return, for I was to become the most important cat in my Clan. Many seasons ago, Stormpaw, I was FireClan’s medicine cat.”

               Stormpaw suddenly remembered FireClan, those fierce, swift cats who lived on the grassy moor full of shrubs. Flywing had pointed them out on their first day.

               Sunspirit stepped back, and a tiny she-cat took his place. She was about Stormpaw’s size, with a snow-white pelt and bright blue eyes. She was slightly more faded than Sunspirit, the edges of her fur blurring into the rock.

               “My name is Bouncefeather,” she mewed. “I was the smallest cat to be born to my Clan. I was the size of a mouse when I was kitted, and my mother didn’t think I would survive. I never grew up like my littermates did. In battle, I was almost crushed by a warrior three times my size. My mentor tried her hardest, but there was nothing she could do. I was a poor hunter, a poor fighter. Then my leader had a sign that showed him what my real destiny was—for although my body was small, my spirit was large. Many, many moons before Sunspirit was kitted, I was WaveClan’s medicine cat.”

               _Oh, yes._ WaveClan lived on an island, surrounded by the river that pooled into the lake. Stormpaw remembered standing at the top of the ridge, the wind piercing through his fur, as he gazed down into their territory, damp with rain.

               By that time, Bouncefeather had stepped away and yet another tom took her place. He was a big gray tom with wide paws and golden eyes.

               “I am Alderfur,” he rumbled, his voice deep and intimidating. Stormpaw began to shrink away, but Juniperfur was there, pressing reassuringly against him.

               “I was like you, Stormpaw,” he meowed. “I had my heart set on becoming a warrior like my sisters, Butterflyheart and Oaktail. However, that was not the destiny StarClan had laid out for me. I was destined to succeed Twistleap.”

               A long, lean tabby cat stepped up to his side. Stormpaw knew without knowing that this was Twistleap.

               “I had a sign of a falling tree, crashing down onto a garden of herbs,” Twistleap murmured. “However, when I went to check the herbs, not even one was crushed. Instead, the water that had pooled in a cavity in the tree had spilt to water the flowers. I took the sign of the falling alder as clarification that Alderfur—then Alderpaw—was to be my apprentice.”

               Before she had finished speaking, another image flashed through Stormpaw’s mind—of thick foliage and peaty ground underfoot, with the thick scent of something damp within the darkness. Even before Alderfur spoke, he knew without knowing what he was going to say.

               “Many moons ago,” Alderfur meowed, “I was DarkClan’s medicine cat.”

               As if that was a cue, the assembled spirit cats all began speaking at once. They started moving, weaving in between one another, sometimes dipping to lap at the pool—the _Starpool_ —or lay down to sleep, their paws touching the water. They moved past, around, _through_ Stormpaw, sending shivers up his spine. He became fearful.

               “Juniperfur?” he whispered, turning to look for her. But she was gone. _No! Where did she go?_ “Juniperfur!” he cried, running blindly.

               “Stormpaw.”

               “Juniperfur!” Stormpaw wailed, running past Sunspirit. The tom didn’t seem to see him.

               “Stormpaw!”

               He jerked awake. Flywing was standing over him, her eyes wide and concerned.

               “You were thrashing about in your sleep, and crying out for some cat,” she meowed. “Are you okay?”

               He leapt to his paws. “I have to speak to Splashstar,” he gasped. “Please, Flywing. It’s important.”

               “He’s out on the dawn patrol,” she stammered. “Stormpaw, what is it?”

               “What about Pinefrost?” _I must talk to some cat before I forget my dream! Curse my memory, I can’t forget this!_

               “I—I think he’s still asleep. Stormpaw, what—?”

               With an apologetic mew, Stormpaw ducked past her, bolting from the den. Wisps of dawn light filtered into the camp as cats milled about sleepily. But Stormpaw didn’t pause to take it in. Spinning on one paw, he ran across the camp and threw himself into the medicine den.

               “Pinefrost, I’m sorry!” was what burst from his throat. The elderly cat, in the middle of stretching, looked up in bewilderment.

               “Sorry for what, young’un?” he meowed.

               Shaking, Stormpaw sat down and began bursting out all the details about his dream. When he was done, he dropped his head, scared of what Pinefrost would say. The heartbeats dragged out as Pinefrost looked at him silently.

               “You saw Juniperfur?” he murmured after what felt like an eternity. “Is she well?”

               Stormpaw looked up. _Why is that what he focuses on?_ “Sh-She seemed to be,” he replied.

               “And Alderfur was there,” he murmured, sitting with his back arched. “Waterleaf must be watching over me.” With a sigh, he raised his head. “Tell me again, who all was there?”

               “Sunspirit,” Stormpaw said instantly. “He was a big ginger tom with eyes that shine like sunlight. And Bouncefeather—she was really small, I thought she was an apprentice at first. Then there was Alderfur—he was _huge_ , especially compared to Bouncefeather. Then Twistleap, who was really skinny and tall.”

               He nodded. “And—you can remember every cat?”

               With a start, Stormpaw realized that he was right. His heart began to pound again.

               “Why?” he asked nervously. “It took me three moons to remember my own father’s name. I can’t even remember which nest in the apprentices’ den is mine. Why…can I suddenly remember things?”

               “Because you have a gift, Stormpaw,” Pinefrost murmured. His eyes were the brightest Stormpaw had ever seen them. He looked like a young cat again. For a second, Stormpaw saw a flash of the old, youthful cat he must have been once. “You have a gift that many cats don’t have.”

               Stormpaw’s gaze unfocused. He suddenly heard words in his head—words murmured in Juniperfur’s soft, warm meow. Her sweet scent wreathed around him. _“Some storms are hard to forget.”_

               He took a deep breath as a sudden realization came to him. Dipping his head in acceptance, he murmured, “I’m ready to become your apprentice, Pinefrost.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormpaw starts medicine cat things, and we meet the other Clan medicine cats
> 
> This one's a little longer.

Pinefrost had rushed to speak to Splashstar as soon as he returned to camp with the dawn patrol, leaving Stormpaw alone in the medicine den. _What have I done?_ He padded to the pool and looked down. His fluffy gray face, with his bright leaf-green eyes, stared back at him as his black-tipped tail twitched. _What about my dream of being a warrior? Is that just…gone?_

               A rustle behind him sounded, and he mewed, “Did you already talk to Splashstar?”

               “I haven’t,” Flywing replied. Stormpaw spun. _I didn’t even think of Flywing!_

               “Flywing,” he stammered, “I’m so sorry—”

               “It’s okay, Stormpaw.” She sat down, wrapping her tail over her paws. “I know you’re going to be Pinefrost’s apprentice.”

               He padded over to her and touched her nose with his. He hoped she couldn’t feel him shaking. “It’s not you,” he whispered. “You were the best mentor any cat could ask for. You were so patient, and so kind…” He could have gone on, but she cut him off.

               “It’s not your fault, you know.” Her eyes were clear.

               _What’s not?_ Before he could voice the question, she continued.

               “Splashstar told me about your prophecy. I went to him to ask if he could give you a new mentor, because I felt like I failed,” she admitted. “But once he told me that StarClan had picked you out to be a medicine cat, I realized it would just take time for you to realize that.” Her eyes sparkled. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been your mentor for long anyway.”

               “What do you mean?” he asked, startled. “Splashstar wouldn’t have really given me to another cat!”

               “Only temporarily.” She purred. “Stormpaw, I’m expecting kits!”

               It took him a moment to register what she was saying, but when it did, joy rose in his heart. Despite only being her apprentice for a pawful of short days, he felt close to her in a way that he only felt about cats like Petalpaw.

               “That’s so great, Flywing!” he exclaimed. “How do you know?”

               “Sometimes, a cat just knows,” she mewed, winking at him. “Well, and Pinefrost told me yesterday.”

               “Who’s the father?”

               “Tuftyears,” she replied. “Don’t tell him though—I want to tell him myself.”

               Stormpaw purred loudly, brushing cheeks with Flywing, when another cat entered the dim den. Talonslash’s wide shoulders almost blocked out the sunlight as he squinted in the darkness.

               “I’ll let you go,” Flywing murmured, rising to her paws. As she left, she dipped her head to Talonslash, who nodded back kindly.

               “Don’t overexert yourself!” Stormpaw called before he could think. Flywing waved her tail to show she had heard as the lichen swept back into place behind her.

               “So I hear you’re going to be Pinefrost’s apprentice,” Talonslash rumbled. His gaze was unreadable. Stormpaw nodded.

               “I am.”

               “What happened to your dream of being a warrior?” his father asked. He didn’t sound bitter—at least, Stormpaw hoped he wasn’t.

               Stormpaw took a deep breath. _I know Father really wanted me to be a warrior. So did I. But…StarClan chose me._ “I realized where StarClan really wanted my paws,” he finally said. “I know…it’s not the destiny you wanted for me. But…you still have Petalpaw,” he continued hopefully.

               Talonslash gazed down at his son with loving amber eyes. “Well, who am I to go against the will of StarClan?” he meowed, touching his son’s head with his muzzle. “If they say my son is to be the greatest medicine cat that HuntClan’s ever seen, I’m not going to stand in the way.” His eyes glittered mischievously. “Now—come on, we have a ceremony to prepare you for.”

 

“Let all cats old enough to capture their own prey gather here around the Tallrock for a Clan meeting!”

               Skyleap nuzzled her son as Splashstar’s call rang around the camp. “Are you sure?” she asked for what Stormpaw was sure was the hundredth time.

               “Yes, Mother,” he murmured. Doubt was creeping into his heart as the ceremony was about to commence. _Was_ he sure that he wanted to give up the life of a warrior—the life he had longed for since he had opened his eyes—to wade through plants and treat infected scratches all day?

               _Too late to change my mind now_ , he thought as Splashstar beckoned him forward with his tail. None of his nervousness from his first ceremony was present—it was all suffocated by the crushing anxiety that he was making the wrong decision.

               “StarClan”—It was Pinefrost who spoke—“you have called forward generations upon generations of medicine cats to keep the three Clans strong and healthy. Now, it’s time for another cat to follow in past pawsteps.” His deep gaze focused on Stormpaw. He had never seen such intensity, and resisted the urge to flinch away. “Stormpaw. Do you promise to live between Clan boundaries, helping any cat who requires it, despite Clan loyalties?”

               His heart throbbed. His throat seemed tight. _What if I’m making a mistake? What if this is wrong? What if StarClan is wrong?_

               “Yes, I do,” he whispered, then louder. “I do.”

               _Who said that? I can’t have. I can barely breathe…_

               “Then you will, from this moment forward, train as a medicine cat apprentice until you earn your full name.” Pinefrost touched Stormpaw’s head with his muzzle, and Stormpaw licked his shoulder.

               As the loud cry of his name went up from the Clan, Petalpaw pushed through the crowd and stood in front of Stormpaw, dismayed.

               “You didn’t tell me!” she wailed. The white spots of her dual-colored pelt glowed in the sunhigh sun. Stormpaw’s heart twisted. _StarClan help me, I_ didn’t _tell the other apprentices._

               As if on cue, Badgerpaw, Aspenpaw, and Jaypaw came forward too. The rest of the Clan began to disperse as Tuftyears began giving out afternoon orders.

               “You never said anything to any of us,” Aspenpaw whispered, her eyes big and troubled. “Why?”

               “All the interesting stuff happens while I’m on patrol,” Badgerpaw grumbled.

               “Is it because I beat you in training the other day?” Jaypaw cried. “I’m sorry!”

               Stormpaw hesitated, ears flat, unsure what to say. He turned to his sister first and raised a paw. “Petalpaw…”

               “I don’t wanna hear your excuses!” she cried, flattening her ears. “We always talked about becoming warriors together! We always talked about our nests in the warriors’ den being together, being leader and deputy together! Did that mean _nothing_ to you?”

               “Petalpaw, it _does!_ ” he insisted. “Please listen, I couldn’t—”

               “No!” she hissed, baring her teeth. Her eyes swam with pain. “Don’t talk to me! You told me you cared about _our dreams_ , and how brothers and sisters always have to stick together! And then you go and do _this?_ ” Her fur stood up on end. “Stay away from me!”

               “Petalpaw!” Stormpaw cried, taking a step after her. She turned and ran away from him, past Firefall and out the thorn tunnel. With a start, Firefall glanced at Stormpaw and then ran out after her. Skyleap, who had come up to congratulate her son, hesitated, glancing between Stormpaw and the thorn tunnel. After a moment’s hesitation, she bounded after her daughter.

               “Why didn’t you talk to us?” Aspenpaw asked again, stepping closer, between him and the thorn tunnel. Her beautiful blue eyes were confused.

               “I…didn’t…” Stormpaw stammered.

               “Stormpaw!”

               All four apprentices spun around. Pinefrost was standing at the entrance to his— _it’s mine now too_ —den, waving his tail.

               “Come on, you’ve already got a late start on your training,” he called. “Let’s get started learning herbs now—don’t forget, tonight is the half-moon.”

               Stormpaw gazed desperately at his friends. Badgerpaw looked hurt beyond words. Jaypaw had a guilty flicker in his eyes. And Aspenpaw— _oh, Aspenpaw._

               “Stormpaw!” Pinefrost meowed again.

               “I-I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I have to go.” Trying to ignore their hurt faces, he turned and bounded off, toward the dark den and his new life.

               As he pushed inside, he tried to shake the guilt from his pelt. Pinefrost was already pulling pawfuls of herbs from the clefts in the rock.

               “It will take your friends and your sister some time to come to terms with the fact that your destiny differs from theirs so drastically,” Pinefrost murmured. “Flowerear was the same way with me. I think she thought we would even be mates one day.”

               Before Stormpaw could ask any questions, Pinefrost pointed with his tail to the first pile of leaves. “You already know this one—this is tansy. What’s it used for?”

               “To relieve stiffness and help take away pain,” Stormpaw replied, head still spinning with everything that had just happened. “What do you mean, Pinefrost—”

               “And this.” Pinefrost touched the next pile with his forepaw. It was a long, thin stem covered with many tiny leaves. “Do you know?”

               Stormpaw shook his head. “Pinefrost, what—”

               “Smell it and really get it into your head,” Pinefrost instructed. “This is thyme—we use it to treat shock, especially after a battle.” With a sigh, realizing Pinefrost didn’t want to talk any further, Stormpaw bent and sniffed it. It was sharp and tangy, and made him wrinkle his nose.

               For the rest of the day, Stormpaw learned more and more of the herbs—alder bark, willow, catmint, lamb ears (that was the fuzzy plant he had seen when training with Firefall), poppy, juniper—and he was sticking his tongue out to taste a blackberry leaf when Pinefrost returned to the den, having left a few heartbeats earlier, with two shrews.

               “Eat up,” he said, dropping a shrew in front of Stormpaw. “We have to leave for the Starpool soon.”

               _The Starpool._ That shining, starlight-filled water pool that he had seen in his dreams. His heart began to race, and he settled down and gulped up the shrew in a few hasty mouthfuls. It was only then that he realized he hadn’t eaten that whole day, with everything that had happened.

               “Are you done?” Pinefrost was pushing herbs back into the rock. “Help me sort these out and put them back, and we’ll be on our way.”

               Once all the plants were pushed away, Stormpaw led the way out of the den. The moon was already rising in the sky, and the night chill had settled over the camp. Most cats had retired back to the den. Aspenpaw and Petalpaw were sharing tongues under an overhanging bush, but when she saw Stormpaw, Aspenpaw leapt up and bounded over to meet him. Petalpaw stared after them.

               “I haven’t seen much of you today!” Aspenpaw said, stopping a few pawsteps away, looking nervous. “Um—I’m sorry for being a mouse-brain earlier.”

               “I’m sorry for not telling you,” Stormpaw murmured, feeling like he was falling into the depths of her amber eyes.

               “So…just because you’re a medicine cat now,” she meowed, “we can still be friends, right?” Her gaze sparkled mischievously.

               “Of course!” Stormpaw felt as though a huge weight was lifted off him—Aspenpaw didn’t hate him! He almost purred, and then caught sight of Petalpaw. His sister turned away with a sharp jerk of her head, rolling to her paws and stalking off with her head and tail held high. His purr died in his throat.

               “Don’t pay any mind to her,” Aspenpaw mewed. “She’s just upset because now she’s the youngest in the den, and you didn’t tell her before you made the decision.”

               “I didn’t have time,” Stormpaw mumbled miserably. “I had a dream—and then I went to Pinefrost—it all happened so fast…”

               “Do you want me to talk to her?” Aspenpaw asked.

               “What’s this?” Pinefrost nudged his way past Stormpaw. “Come now, Stormpaw, the moon mustn’t get any higher before we leave!”

               Stormpaw sighed in exhaustion. “Please,” he asked Aspenpaw. She touched her warm nose to his cheek.

               “Of course,” she breathed. “Be safe.” And then she ducked away. Suddenly feeling hot, Stormpaw darted after Pinefrost as he headed out the thorn tunnel.

               The forest was dark and bathed in a faint white light from the moon. The air was cold, and the grass underfoot was dry and crackled under his pads. Shivering, Stormpaw hurried to follow Pinefrost as the old cat wove down one of the paths, worn down to bare dirt from seasons of countless pawsteps.

               “Remember, Stormpaw,” he said suddenly, making the apprentice’s tail jerk in surprise. “Medicine cats cannot take a mate.”

               “I know that,” he said indignantly. _I know the warrior code! Well…most of it._

               “Does Aspenpaw know that?” His mew was soft. Stormpaw didn’t answer right away. He hadn’t thought about that. Before he could respond, Pinefrost drew to a halt, looking up. Stormpaw followed his gaze.

               Another cat was sitting on a tall rock at the border, her head tipped up at the sky. Stormpaw couldn’t help but stare at this magnificent cat. With the moon behind her, a long, narrow body, and a tail wrapped neatly over her paws, she was the picture of grace and solemnity.

               Pinefrost drew breath to call out, but the cat’s ears twitched and the pretty head turned. As Stormpaw’s eyes adjusted, he saw it was a she-cat with white and gray fur and black points. She stood up, her tail waving. Her long shadow fell over the two HuntClan medicine cats.

               “Pinefrost,” she called down. “Who’s that with you?”

               “This is my apprentice,” he replied. “Come down and say hello.”

               She bunched her muscles, and Stormpaw couldn’t hold in a loud gasp as the cat leapt. She sailed over his head and landed with a barely noticeable sound on the leaf litter. She straightened up and turned—and Stormpaw was further amazed to see that her eyes were clouded blue and sightless.

               _She’s blind? How did she make this this far by herself? How did she make that_ jump? Dozens of thoughts raced through Stormpaw’s mind, and he itched to ask them.

               “Stormpaw, this is Echobreeze of DarkClan,” Pinefrost introduced. “Echobreeze, this is my new apprentice—as of today.”

               “Stormpaw,” she repeated, in a voice as soft as the whispering of dragonflies. Leaning in, she closed her eyes, and Stormpaw felt her nose brush his cheek as she took in his scent. “A strong name for a strong tom,” she murmured. Then she straightened, ears straight up, facing deeper into the woods. Pinefrost followed her gaze.

               “Prey?” he asked hopefully.

               _Not that you could catch it in your old age,_ Stormpaw thought before he could stop himself, and let out a breathy snort of laughter at his own joke. Neither cat spared him a look.

               “No,” she murmured. “I believe it’s Fawnstep. But…she has another cat with her.”

               “Not Willowfur?”

               “No…”

               Stormpaw strained his ears, trying to listen for whatever cat they were hearing. He didn’t hear anything for a while until a faint rustling and loud high-pitched meows. After a moment, two more cats appeared in the clearing. One was a light brown tabby, and the smaller she-cat was solid black with stunning green eyes. Their pelts were thick and glossy, and still wet from the river.

               “At least we’re not the last ones here,” the tabby purred, touching noses with Echobreeze. “How is the prey running?”

               “Can’t complain,” Echobreeze replied. Pinefrost dipped his head to the she-cat.

               “So you have an apprentice now too, Fawnstep?” he greeted her. Stormpaw twitched an ear as Fawnstep turned to him.

               “What’s your name?” she asked kindly, blinking her bright blue eyes. The tiny black she-cat peeked at him from beside her mentor.

               “I’m Stormpaw,” he replied. “I just became Pinefrost’s apprentice today.”

               “So did I!” The little black cat leapt forward, landing in front of Stormpaw. She was significantly smaller than him. “I’m Midnightpaw.”

               _Midnightpaw? What an odd name. Maybe they just do stuff like that in WaveClan?_

               “Ah, and I’m last again!”

               Another new voice made Stormpaw turn from Midnightpaw. A gray she-cat was coming up from the direction of the lake. Her pelt smelled of grass and cold night air.

               “Willowfur,” Echobreeze purred, stepping forward. The two she-cats brushed cheeks before Willowfur turned her gaze to Stormpaw and Midnightpaw. Her eyes were a very dark color, and only the reflection of the moon gave them away.

               “Two new apprentices?” She flicked her tail at Pinefrost. “Which one belongs to you?”

               “I’m Stormpaw,” he said by way of answer, before the old calico could reply. Willowfur nodded kindly, and looked about to speak.

               “Let’s go,” Fawnstep butted in. “The moon’s not getting any higher. We can talk later.”              

               Stormpaw hurried after Pinefrost as he turned away. Midnightpaw kept pace easily, even with her significantly shorter legs. Fawnstep and Willowfur brought up the rear, and Echobreeze led the way.

               “Pinefrost?” Stormpaw called. The old cat slowed and glanced at his apprentice as they travelled up the ravine.

               “Yes?” he asked.

               Stormpaw dropped his voice. “Why is Echobreeze leading the way? She’s blind,” he whispered.

               “I have the sharpest nose and ears,” Echobreeze called back, sounding thankfully unbothered by the question. Stormpaw’s pelt burned with embarrassment, and he ducked his head. _I should have guessed that a blind cat can hear better than others…_

“Is this your first trip to the Starpool?” Midnightpaw asked as Pinefrost returned to Echobreeze’s side. Stormpaw nodded. Willowfur and Fawnstep were meowing softly behind them.

               “I’ve heard so much about the Starpool from every cat in my Clan,” she continued chattering. “Apparently it holds all the light of every star in Silverpelt!”

               _If it’s anything like my dream,_ Stormpaw thought, _it’ll be amazing._

               Midnightpaw continued talking in a one-sided conversation as they walked, every mewed word floating in one of Stormpaw’s ears and out the other. They traveled up a well-trodden path, their step slowly quickening as the moon rose ever higher. The ravine sloped upwards, and Stormpaw had to bound to keep up with his mentor. Even Midnightpaw stopped talking to focus on their path weaving through the trees.

               Eventually, they reached a black rock with a circle carved into it. Without hesitating, Echobreeze plunged into the darkness, followed by Pinefrost, and then Fawnstep. Willowfur was last, pausing only once to glance back and beckon with her tail. Midnightpaw and Stormpaw glanced at each other.

               “After you,” he muttered. She looked nervous, but took a deep breath and dove into the crevice. Stormpaw glanced around at the trees, swallowed, and followed.

               The rock was cold and damp around him. He followed Midnightpaw’s tail for a moment, whiskers brushing each side of the narrow tunnel, before it opened wide. He blinked hard a couple of times, waiting for his eyes to adjust. When they finally did, he couldn’t hold in a gasp of amazement.

               The Starpool was much larger than it had seemed in his dream. The clear, cold water was shining with moonlight and stars, casting an ethereal light around the wide cavern. The water bubbled up from underneath the rock, with a tiny waterfall cascading into the pool with a gentle splashing sound.

               “Stormpaw, come here,” Pinefrost meowed. Stormpaw, still awe-struck, stepped forward. Pinefrost looked up at the hole in the roof of the cave. “StarClan, I call you to look down on this apprentice and keep him in your paws as he learns the ways of the medicine cat, the rites of healing, and help him find the courage he needs to live between Clan boundaries.”

               Pinefrost rested his muzzle on Stormpaw’s head while the other medicine cats meowed his name. Fawnstep performed the same ceremony with Midnightpaw before each cat then settled down beside the pool.

               “Take a drink and then lay down with your paws in it,” Pinefrost instructed Stormpaw. Midnightpaw dropped down on Stormpaw’s other side. Stormpaw lapped a couple mouthfuls, his paws dipping into the cold water. Shivering, he flicked water from his whiskers and settled down to sleep. Willowfur and Fawnstep were already breathing evenly, and Pinefrost wasn’t far behind. Echobreeze was the last to take her place. Anxiety was tightening his belly into knots.

               _StarClan, please show me if I made the right decision,_ Stormpaw prayed, closing his eyes.

               He woke up standing in a grassy clearing in the middle of sunhigh. He wasn’t sure where he was—it didn’t look like the Starpool, or any of the areas around it. _This looks like the training hollow in our territory_ , he realized.

               “Stormpelt!”

               He didn’t turn at first. _Who’s that?_

               “Stormpelt! You mousebrain!”

               He turned, less out of his own will and more of compulsion. His heart soared. Aspenpaw was bounding towards him, her eyes shining. But she was grown, her shoulders wide like her father’s and with the brilliant amber eyes of her mother that shone in her black face.

               “Aspenpaw,” he called back, happy as a jaybird.

               “Who’s that?” she joked, rubbing her face against his. “Stormpelt, you can’t call me by my apprentice name forever!”

               _Apprentice name? Are you a warrior?_ Confused, Stormpaw pulled back, looking at her. She stared up at him, bewildered.

               “What’s wrong?” she asked, tipping her head. “Is it something I said?”

               He found himself shaking his head. “Of course not,” he purred. _I can be happy! No prophecy from StarClan, no living in the medicine den, I’m a warrior and I can be with Aspenpaw!_

               “Come on, mouse brain,” she mewed, pulling away. “Tuftystar sent us to hunt, remember?”      

               _Tuftystar? That means…_ Stormpaw’s heart began to pound. _What happened?_ _What else in the camp has changed?_

               “Come on!” she called again, leaping away. “Badgerfur and Petalblaze are waiting for us!”

               _Badgerpaw and Petalpaw._ Stormpaw leapt after Aspenpaw. _I need to see what I’ve missed._

 

After hunting for a bit (far more successfully than he’d ever done before), they returned to camp with two squirrels and a vole. Stormpaw bounded ahead of Aspenpaw and ducked into the thorn tunnel. It seemed tighter than he remembered. At a glance, it looked the same. Badgerpaw and Petalpaw were sharing tongues by the prey pile. They looked up when they saw Stormpaw and Aspenpaw.

               “Stormpelt! Aspentail!” Badgerpaw called. The two apprentices— _warriors—_ trotted over, depositing their prey with the other catches. “Tuftystar asked me to have you guys lead a patrol along the DarkClan border. I’m staying in camp.” This last part was purred as he nuzzled Petalpaw on the neck. “We have some special news!”

               “What is it?” Aspenpaw pressed up against Stormpaw.

               “I’m expecting, Aspentail!” Petalpaw exclaimed. Stormpaw’s heart stopped cold.

               “Congratulations, Petalblaze!” he found himself saying. His sister cast him a glance, and Stormpaw was shocked to see the hatred there.

               “I’m sorry, do I know you?” she asked cruelly. Stormpaw took a step back.

               _Where’s Skyleap? Where’s Talonslash? They’ll know what’s wrong._ Stormpaw dipped his head awkwardly to Badgerpaw and went after Aspenpaw as she walked away.

               “Are—Are Skyleap and Talonslash on patrol?” Stormpaw dared to ask. Aspenpaw stopped and tipped her head at him cautiously. Her bright eyes were confused and forlorn.

               “Did you hit your head too hard yesterday, Stormpelt?” she asked quietly. “They’ve both been gone since last leaf-bare, when Pinefrost died.”

               _Pinefrost—? My mother, my father…Splashstar._ Stormpaw’s world spun. His paws suddenly felt heavy.

               “I need to go to the medicine den,” he stammered. “I don’t feel well.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and bounded off. He ducked into the dark medicine den, meowing a greeting. His heart froze when he saw the cat that turned to him.

               Midnightpaw’s eyes were dark and exhausted, but when she saw him, they burned with a hideous fury.

               “Midnightpaw!” he exclaimed without thinking. “But—Fawnstep—?”

               She flattened her ears and hissed, “Come to rub it in my face too, _Stormpelt_? You’re the reason I’m here, you foxheart.” She arched her head. “And it’s not Midnightpaw anymore. It’s Midnightfang. Not that you would care, you self-centered—”

               “What—I don’t understand,” Stormpaw stammered.

               “Going to make me relive it _again?_ ” Midnightpaw snarled. She paced around him, her tail lashing. “Allow me. Proud little Stormpaw decided he was too good to be a medicine cat and told Pinefrost where he could shove his prophecy. That leaf-bare, a bout of greencough hit HuntClan’s stinky, wet forest camp.” Her tail whipped across Stormpaw’s nose, making him flinch. “And stupid old Pinefrost was the first cat to get sick, because he was too old to take care of every cat on his own. So, when other cats got sick—Yulethorn, Flowerear, Skyleap, Talonslash, Whiskerfur, Foxtail, Dustfur, Jaysong, Applebranch, Oakfur, Twisttail, Splashstar—he couldn’t heal them. So half the Clan _died_.

               “And then poor old HuntClan was left without a medicine cat!” Midnightpaw’s eyes widened in mock terror. “Oh, what were they to _do?_ Well, the answer was simple.” Her fur fluffed up. “Steal WaveClan’s only medicine apprentice, and _force her_ to live in this smelly old camp, far away from her family and any cat she knows and loves, because _Stormpelt_ ”—here she stopped and snarled in his face—“decided he was _too good_ to become a medicine cat, because _medicine cats aren’t_ real _warriors_. Isn’t that what you said?”

               Stormpaw felt sick. _This was_ his _fault?_ That explained why Petalpaw was so angry—she probably blamed him for the death of their family. That explained… _everything._

               Thoroughly horrified, Stormpaw turned and ran out of the den without another word. His stomach was churning and his eyes were blurring over. He shoved past Aspenpaw, who called his name bewilderedly. He raced out of the camp, stumbling over branches and shoving through bushes. His pads burned as they were scraped and cut, his fur pulled by trailing brambles.

               Juniperfur’s soft voice echoed in his head. _This is a Clan without Stormpaw the medicine cat. This is a Clan where StarClan’s prophecies go unacknowledged. This is the future of HuntClan if our words are ignored. Remember, some storms are hard to forget._

               “StarClan!” he wailed to the trees, finally skidding to a halt in the clearing he had woken up in. He thought it was, at least. “StarClan, you’ve proven your point! I’m sorry I doubted you! Please! Please take me back to the Starpool! I was _wrong!_ I was wrong, I was wrong…”

               “Stormpaw! Stormpaw, wake _up!_ ”

               He jerked awake, gasping and struggling to stand. His paws splashed madly in the puddle at his feet and he almost fell in. Teeth latched in his scruff and pulled him backwards. Gasping, his front soaked in water and thoroughly chilled, he finally stumbled to his paws and turned to stare at the cat behind him.

               Echobreeze’s sightless eyes stared just past him, wide. “Stormpaw, what’s wrong? You were kicking and splashing in your sleep, and we couldn’t wake you.”

               Stormpaw stared around. He was back at the Starpool. Pinefrost and Fawnstep were still asleep, the former snoring gently, as was Midnightpaw, with one ear twitching. Echobreeze was in front of him, with Willowfur slightly behind her, her ears pushed forward and her eyes big and concerned.

               Stormpaw shivered as he looked again at Midnightpaw. He couldn’t forget the furious blaze burning in her eyes as she stared at him.

               “Stormpaw?” Willowfur asked, raising one paw.

               _Not Midnightpaw. Midnightfang did that. And Petalblaze hated me. And Tuftystar stole Midnightfang. Not Splashstar, not Tuftyears._ He shook himself. “I—I’ll be okay,” he mumbled.

               Echobreeze touched her nose to his ear as the others began to stir. “Remember, medicine cats cannot share their dreams.”

               Still shivering, Stormpaw nodded weakly. All he wanted was to go back to his nest and sleep, and forget his scary dream.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the Gathering. Who's going and who's staying?

It was another half-moon since his incident at the Starpool. He had settled into his new role as a medicine cat with only some grumbling, mainly under his breath so Pinefrost couldn’t hear. Petalpaw had still not spoken to him since the day he had become Pinefrost’s apprentice—not that he had much time to chat anyway. Pinefrost always kept him busy with one thing for another, whether it was fetching plants, drying the leaves in the den, sorting through old herbs, or caring for the Clan while Pinefrost was out.

               One evening while Stormpaw was out gathering yarrow, he heard the faint mews and pawsteps of a patrol from somewhere behind him. He turned, ears pricking, as they crashed through the undergrowth. Through the bracken came Aspenpaw and Petalpaw, their mentors Twisttail and Firefall, and Oakfur, Badgerpaw’s mentor.

               “Hey,” Stormpaw greeted them. Aspenpaw hurried forward and touched her nose to Stormpaw’s, purring. Petalpaw hissed.

               “Splashstar wants every cat back at camp as soon as possible,” Oakfur, the eldest warrior in the patrol, stated. Stormpaw ducked away from Aspenpaw, embarrassed, before nodding.

               “Let me get this back to camp and come back for the rest,” Stormpaw replied. “I’ll be quick.”

               Twisttail noted the large pile of herbs at his paws—a mixture of yarrow, watermint, and blackberry branches. “It’ll take you more than two trips. Why not have another cat help you?” she suggested.

               Firefall, who had seen Petalpaw’s hiss of disgust at Aspenpaw, and now noted the way she was glowering at her paws, suggested, “How about Petalpaw stay and help you?”

               His apprentice jerked her white and black head up, startled. “O-Oh, but Firefall—”

               He silenced her with a look. “I think the fresh air will do you good,” he replied.

               “I could help!” Aspenpaw exclaimed excitedly. Twisttail flicked her apprentice over the ear sharply with her tail. Aspenpaw ducked away from the brown she-cat. Embarrassment spiked her pelt.

               “You two be quick,” Twisttail replied, nodding to Petalpaw and Stormpaw. “The Gathering is tonight, and we wouldn’t want you to be too tired to make the trip to the island.”

               “Yes, Oakfur,” Petalpaw muttered. The rest of the patrol headed off towards camp, with Aspenpaw casting one silent, forlorn glance back at Stormpaw. The gray apprentice turned away, pelt pricking uncomfortably.

               His sister didn’t seem much more at ease. Left alone, Petalpaw scuffed the dirt next to the blackberry branches, which were thick with leaves and berries. “What’re these for?” she asked grudgingly.

               “The leaves can be used for bee stings,” Stormpaw explained quietly. “A lot of the bees are a lot more active this late in leaf-fall, and if any cat steps on one, it can get infected easily.” After a pause, he continued with, “The berries are sweet if you eat one. Pinefrost likes to eat them with his ragwort sometimes, when we’re out of juniper.”

               “No,” Petalpaw scoffed. Stormpaw nodded.

               “Bite one off and try it,” he urged. Still looking skeptical, Petalpaw awkwardly took one between her teeth and jerked it off  the branch. Wrinkling her nose, she chomped it up, and then her lips curled as she swallowed and she jumped backwards.

               “It’s sour! You lied!” she cried, shaking her head.

               “No, they’re not!” Stormpaw purred. “You just got a green one! The black ones are sweeter.”

               “I’m not falling for that again!” she exclaimed, shaking her head. “You stinky medicine cats can eat your berries, I’ll stick to mice!”

               They both purred for a minute before trailing off. Stormpaw pushed the rest of the yarrow into a pile and Petalpaw scuffed the ground again as an awkward silence fell over them.

               “Look, Stormpaw…” She sighed. “I…I’m sorry. I acted like a kit before. I know…you made the right decision being a medicine cat. I was just upset because you didn’t tell me before.”

               “I didn’t have time,” Stormpaw admitted. “I should have told you…right after Splashstar told me about the prophecy.”

               Petalpaw’s black ears pricked. “You have a _prophecy?_ ” she echoed.

               Stormpaw hesitated. _Mouse-dung! Was I not supposed to say anything?_

               Petalpaw looked away as he was quiet. “You don’t have to tell me,” she muttered sullenly.

               _I owe it to her after being such a mouse-brain._ Taking a deep breath, Stormpaw nodded and launched into the story, starting with his talk with Splashstar and Pinefrost as a kit and leading up to his change in apprenticeship. She listened with big, round eyes, her awe growing with each passing word.

               “Stormpaw, that’s so cool,” she breathed. “My own brother, part of a _prophecy!_ ”

               Not for the first time, a bitterness as tangy as the unripe blackberries rose in his chest. _Sure, I’m part of a prophecy, but has no cat thought to ask me what I_ want _? I can’t take a mate, I can’t patrol and fight and hunt, I can’t even talk to Pinefrost or my own sister about my dreams. I didn’t ask for this._

From days ago, Juniperfur’s words echoed in Stormpaw’s buzzing head. _This is a Clan without Stormpaw the medicine cat._

               “Stormpaw?”

               He jumped a little, jerked out of his thoughts. Petalpaw was staring at him with a look of concern.

               “Are you okay? You kind of zoned out there,” she meowed. He shook himself. He couldn’t unsee Petalblaze.

               “Yeah—I’m alright,” he muttered, suddenly unwilling to talk any further. “Can you grab those blackberry vines? I’ll get the other herbs.”

               Petalpaw eyed him but didn’t say anything else. She flicked her tail over his shoulder as she bent to grab the vines in her teeth.

               _What has this come to_ , a voice in Stormpaw’s head groaned. _We used to be tighter than ivy on a tree trunk. Why does my being a medicine cat have to change that?_

 

Upon returning to camp, they found most of the Clan snoozing in the shade before the Gathering. Jaypaw and Badgerpaw came bounding up as the two apprentices entered the camp.

               “Splashstar announced the Gathering party,” tiny Jaypaw couldn’t help but exclaim. “We’re all going!”

               “ _Most_ all,” Badgerpaw murmured. “Aspenpaw and I are staying here. Splashstar said that DarkClan has been leaving pretty aggressive scent marks along the border, so he wants strong warriors and apprentices here if they decide to try something.”

               “They wouldn’t try anything on the night of the Gathering,” Petalpaw scoffed, setting her load down at her paws.

               “But if they do, we’ll be ready!” Aspenpaw had bounded up. “We learned the _best_ new battle move today…”

               Stormpaw, unwilling to chatter like a starling, waved his tail and excused himself, padding towards his rocky den. Behind him, he heard Jaypaw mutter, “He’s been getting more and more distant.”

               “Maybe it’s just medicine cat stuff,” Badgerpaw replied.

               Petalpaw, who had hung back, whispered, “I don’t know if he’s happy.”

               _Why don’t you keep your whiskers to yourselves?_ he thought irritably.

               Stormpaw brushed into the den in annoyance to find Pinefrost lapping at the pool. He raised his grizzled head as Stormpaw silently dropped the herbs and began sorting them.

               “Did you fall into a hole or some? You should have been back ages ago,” he rasped. “We have lots to do before the Gathering.”

               “I don’t want to go,” Stormpaw mumbled, kicking a broken tansy leaf aside.

               “Nonsense,” Pinefrost stated. “You’re a medicine cat, so you have to go, for one. Two, it’s your first Gathering! You should be excited.”

               Stormpaw said nothing.

               Pinefrost sat down with a sigh. “Stormpaw, I am more than your mentor. I am your—how should I put this—kin in medicine. There are things that you’ll have to talk about that only I will understand or even comprehend.”

               “How do you know StarClan meant _me_?” Stormpaw suddenly demanded before he could stop himself, almost before Pinefrost had finished. “Any cat could be named Storm. I didn’t ask for this—stupid job.” Then he caught himself, but too late. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

               “I know you wanted to be a warrior,” Pinefrost murmured. “And I wanted you to be, I did, Stormpaw. You have the makings of a great warrior. Your wide shoulders and paws would be great in battle. Your strong legs would make you a fine hunter. But even you know you can’t focus on hunting, or on fighting. You can’t understand the differences between hunting mice and rabbits. You can’t _remember_ , Stormpaw.”

               Stormpaw became angry—was Pinefrost just going to poke at his flaws? He spun with an angry retort hot on his tongue.

               “ _But_ ,” Pinefrost drove on, “you can remember herbs. You can focus on injuries, remedies, wraps, and even where the plants are. You can see a plant once and recall exactly where it grows in the forest, what it looked like, what it smelled like, and how the sun looks on the leaves. Your prophecy, Stormpaw, was ‘some storms are hard to _forget_ ’.”

               “I know that,” he grumbled.

               “That was a reference to your memory. Juniperfur also showed me a vision of a storm with green lighting.” Pinefrost leaned in. “Green like your eyes.”

               Stormpaw stared at the ground.

               “Stormpaw, you are the one that StarClan wanted to keep HuntClan safe once I am gone.”

               Midnightfang’s face blazed across Stormpaw’s mind, making him shiver.

               Pinefrost rose stiffly and touched his nose to Stormpaw’s ear. “If you’re still feeling unsure, we can go to the Starpool again to speak with StarClan. It doesn’t just have to be at the half-moon.”

               Stormpaw shrugged, turning away. “I just—feel like StarClan made a mistake.” He stared into the pool at his fluffy gray face. “What if it’s not me? What if it’s another Storm? Another cat.”

               “StarClan is never wrong,” Pinefrost asserted.

               “But what if _you_ are?” Stormpaw demanded before he could stop himself. Pinefrost seemed to wilt but his eyes lit up dangerously.

               “Stormpaw, why can’t you just accept your destiny?” he growled. “Medicine cats aren’t so awful—would you say that to Echobreeze—Fawnstep—Willowfur or Midnightpaw? Life isn’t _fair_ , Stormpaw, so the sooner you accept that, the better.”

               Stormpaw was shocked at the old cat’s ferocity. “Pinefrost, I—”

               “I know this isn’t what you wanted,” he plowed on, bristling, “but it’s what you’re destined for. And do you think I _asked_ for an ungrateful apprentice? I’m old—StarClan knows, I have to take what I can get.”

               “Pinefrost, I didn’t mean—”

               He suddenly looked exhausted, and older than Stormpaw had ever seen him. “I know what you meant, Stormpaw.” He turned stiffly toward the entrance. “Stay or go—I don’t care.”

               He shambled out, and Stormpaw was alone, feeling lower than a worm’s belly. Growling to himself, he kicked a pebble. It bounced into the pool with a tiny _plunk_.

               _I’ll go,_ Stormpaw thought bitterly. _I’ll go, and I’ll sit among the other apprentices who_ chose _their destiny, who talk to each other about what they learn every day, who share stories, and then I’ll sit with the other medicine cats and watch every other cat enjoy themselves._

               With another growl, aloud this time, he stared down at his reflection, shoulders hunched. His green eyes mocked him.

               He lashed out and slashed through the water. It splashed up his front and soaked his paws, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t even find the energy to lick himself dry. Stormpaw sat there, watching the water settle, staring at the dirt, wondering how his life had gotten turned so upside down. He sat there until Splashstar’s call rang through the gathering night.

               Stormpaw ambled into the clearing after a quick but half-hearted grooming. Skyleap rushed up to meet him.

               “Your fur is a mess!” she chided gently, licking his head and shoulders fiercely. “Are you excited? Your first Gathering!”

               “Of course I am,” Stormpaw lied, forcing a purr.

               “Your sister and father are going too,” she continued, her eyes shining. “I’m staying behind this time, but you’ll have a grand time! You’ll get to meet the other apprentices, and cats from other Clans! It’s a lot to take in at first, but you’ll soon get very comfortable.”

               “Mother, I have to sit with the other medicine cats,” he murmured, “and I’ve already met them, at the half-moon, remember?”

               “Well, I’m sure Pinefrost won’t be opposed to you mingling some,” she dismissed, flicking her tail. She seemed not to notice her son’s discomfort, which upset Stormpaw. Pinefrost didn’t care, Petalpaw was happy so she wouldn’t understand, Aspenpaw, Badgerpaw, and Jaypaw weren’t close enough that he could confide in them, and his own parents didn’t even _notice_.

               His mother continued meowing, but he let his gaze drift over the assembled cats, ready to make the run to the island. Foxtail and Whiskerfur were chattering excitedly about their first Gathering as warriors. Sweetriver and Sunfur were talking in low tones. Tuftyears and Flywing were meowing together with Firefall, Petalpaw, and Twisttail. Mallowwhisker and Morningflower were gulping down a hasty snack before the patrol left. The other apprentices were playfighting but were quickly scolded into silence by Sweetriver.

               “HuntClan!” Splashstar’s call cut over Skyleap’s mew, and Stormpaw’s attention was drawn to the blue and white tomcat standing on the Tallrock. “Are we ready to go?”

               Pinefrost melted from the crowd and stood at Stormpaw’s side. “So you chose to come,” he rumbled quietly so Skyleap didn’t hear. Stormpaw didn’t reply. Skyleap licked her son’s head one last time.

               “I’ll see you when you get home,” she purred, slipping away, probably in search of Talonslash.

               “Are you ready for the run?” Pinefrost asked as Splashstar sprang down from the rock and squeezed out through the thorn tunnel. The Clan began to follow.

               “Ready or not,” Stormpaw muttered, referencing the old hiding games that they played in the nursery.

               The two medicine cats brought up the rear of the patrol as they slipped out of the camp and into the night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Gathering begins and ends. Stormpaw comes to a realization.

               They moved quietly through the trees, bounding through the trodden grass and around rocks, splitting trees and jumping fallen logs. Petalpaw let herself fall back to walk alongside Stormpaw. Pinefrost cast them a sideways look and quickened his step to catch up with Yulethorn. Ahead of them, Jaypaw was bounding to keep pace with his mentor Sunfur.

               “I didn’t see much of you before we left,” she said to her brother. “Is something bothering you? You can tell me.”

               Stormpaw focused on the underbrush they passed. The trees began to slowly thin out as the Twolegbridge came into view. “I don’t know,” he replied quietly. The bushes and undergrowth grew sparser and the patrol slowed. “I really don’t,” he continued as Petalpaw just looked at him. “I just…don’t think StarClan was right in choosing me.”

               “Of course they were!” Petalpaw insisted, her blue eyes wide. Her paws stopped on the leaf-litter. Stormpaw stopped as well. “StarClan doesn’t make mistakes.”

               _There it is again—doesn’t, can’t. What if they did?_

“Yeah,” Stormpaw muttered. He turned away.

               “No, Stormpaw.” Petalpaw pushed in front of him. “Don’t push me away!”

               “You don’t understand, Petalpaw,” he said. “You _can’t_ understand.”

               “Then help me understand,” Petalpaw pleaded, flattening her ears and touching her nose to his. “I want to be there for you!”

               Echobreeze’s words flashed through Stormpaw’s head. _“Remember, medicine cats cannot share their dreams.”_

               Stormpaw felt torn in two. “I… I’m not allowed,” he stammered. “I’m not allowed to share with you.”

               Petalpaw stared at him in dismay. “Why _not?_ ” she insisted. “Is it Pinefrost’s rule?”

               “Petalpaw!” Tuftyears pushed back through the bracken. “Stormpaw! Let’s go, the Clan is already halfway across the Twolegbridge.”

               Stormpaw hung his head, his heart aching. Petalpaw stared at her brother and then turned to Tuftyears.

               “We’re coming,” she meowed. The deputy nodded his wide head and disappeared. His running pawsteps quickly vanished. Petalpaw reached back and touched her nose to Stormpaw’s head.

               “I don’t know why you can’t tell me, and I can’t even try to understand a medicine cat’s life,” she murmured. “But I will _always_ be here for you.”

               He raised his head, immensely grateful. “You don’t know how much that means to me, Petalpaw,” he breathed, touching noses with her. She purred and then headbutted him in the shoulder.

               “Come on,” she said, spinning and breaking through the trees. “Let’s go!”

               Feeling lighter, Stormpaw raced after her. The Twoleg-bridge was several bounds long and stretched over a narrower section of the lake, going almost completely to the island. The ground was worn and pressed down by years of countless pawsteps, and Stormpaw felt his paws slipping easily into the grooves sunk into the wood. The lake below shone with the full moon and all the stars of Silverpelt.

               He drew up to a stop once they reached the rest of the patrol. Drawing himself up to full height, Stormpaw looked over the lake. He could see another Clan’s patrol sliding into the dark water and paddling easily toward a cluster of tall trees standing in the middle of the water. The wind carried their scent toward them. It was warm and fishy.

               “Who’s that?” he asked to no cat in particular, feeling it tug at his memories.

               “That’s WaveClan,” Tipsky replied—a gray she-cat with white points. “They live in the reed beds.”

               _That’s right, that’s Echobreeze’s scent_ , Stormpaw thought, watching them swim. Tipsky moved off, and Stormpaw absently followed. However, his lack of concentration caused him to slip off the edge of the bridge, and there was suddenly nothing under his pads. He shrieked as he began to fall, attention jerked away from WaveClan.

               Petalpaw spun, eyes wide, and lunged forward, but she was grabbed back by Sunfur with teeth in her scruff. Stormpaw sank his claws into the wood and kicked out wildly, his heart in his throat as his hind feet met thin air. His tail tip touched the water.

               _I can’t swim! What if I fall?_ he thought wildly, letting out another yowl as his claws lost their grip on the wood.

               Tipsky shoved past Sunfur and snapped her teeth at Stormpaw’s scruff. She missed the first time but stretched and grabbed it the second. For one heart-stopping moment, both of their balances teetered, and Stormpaw was sure that they were both going to go in.

               Then Talonslash was there, and he latched his claws in Tipsky’s shoulder and hauled them both back. Gasping, Stormpaw was dropped to the wood. Tipsky’s chest was heaving and her eyes were wide.

               “Are you okay?” she gasped out at the same time Talonslash demanded, “What happened?”

               “He lost his footing,” Sunfur supplied as Petalpaw rushed her brother, licking his head anxiously. “We’ve all done it once, Talonslash.”

               “Are you okay?” his father asked, echoing Tipsky. Stormpaw could only nod.

               _That was embarrassing!_ Stormpaw wanted to sink into the earth. _Fumbling about like a kit—I’m nearly eight moons old!_

               “Come on then,” Sunfur said crisply. “We don’t want to get left behind.”

               Talonslash hung back as Sunfur and Tipsky moved off, the latter with a single glance back. “Are you alright, son?” he asked softly, touching Stormpaw’s shoulder with his tail.

               “Yeah,” he muttered, mortified. His pelt was prickling. “Let’s just—go.”

               He pushed past Petalpaw and Talonslash, trailing along in Tipsky’s wake. He was far too aware of their gazes boring into him. Pinefrost hung back so they fell into step together. Irritation welled up in Stormpaw. _Can’t any cat just leave me alone for a heartbeat?_

               Thankfully, the old cat didn’t insist on talking. They wandered on in silence, until the smooth wood of the Twolegbridge turned into dirt underfoot. Stormpaw hesitated, tasting the air. The scents of the other Clans bathed his senses and turned his stomach.

               “Overwhelming?” Pinefrost purred rustily. “Stay near me and it won’t be so bad.”

               _All I want to do right now is be alone._

               Pinefrost disappeared into the foliage. Stormpaw took a deep breath and ducked after him. He squeezed his eyes shut as he pushed past a wide bush that whipped at his face, and opened them again when cold air bathed his muzzle. He couldn’t keep in a gasp of astonishment, his earlier sentiment vanished.

               The center of the island was a wide clearing, the grass tamped flat by moons of countless paws stomping it down. The trees arced to the sky, framing the clear, crisp night, where the light of the full moon bathed the clearing in frosty white light. Cats of every shape, color, size, and Clan were milling about, purring and brushing muzzles as they all shared tongues. He spotted a couple apprentices wrestling on the edge of the clearing, cheered on by their yowling equals. Petalpaw’s tail brushed over his side as she darted past him, ears rammed forward.

               “A lot, isn’t it?” Pinefrost’s mew startled him. “Come. The other medicine cats will be waiting for us near the base of the Great Spruce.”

               Stormpaw followed, openly staring around him at the different Clans all milling together. Talonslash was approached by a large black tom, and they butted heads, tails waving. Tipsky and Sweetriver settled down next to a tabby tom and a creamy she-cat. Foxtail and Whiskerfur were being praised by three other cats of seemingly similar age, chests puffed out.

               “Stormpaw!”

               He jerked his head around, and groaned inwardly as Midnightpaw bounded towards him. She stretched out and touched their muzzles—thankfully quickly—and blinked luminous green eyes at him. “How are you?” she purred.

               “Ah—staying busy,” he finally meowed, unsure of what else to say. “You?”

               “Berrytail tore out a claw the other day,” she responded, settling down with her tail over her paws between the roots of the mighty spruce. Stormpaw took the opportunity to look up at the impossibly tall tree as she talked. “It took three days to stop bleeding since she kept rubbing the poultice off.”

               “Did you try catchweed?” he asked absently, craning his head to see the top of the tree. A few tail-lengths above his head, there were two branches rubbed smooth and scored with countless claw marks. _Is that where the leaders sit?_

               “The issue is it’s a claw, not a flesh wound,” Midnightpaw sighed, washing her whiskers. “She can’t walk around on a pawful of burrs!”

               “She’ll heal,” Echobreeze murmured, startling both apprentices as she pushed through the crowd and settled down beside them. Her sightless blue eyes were focused on a spot Stormpaw couldn’t see. “You sound like you’ve done all you can. Warriors will rub off poultices until they die—it’s as inevitable as the snow and the rain.”

               Midnightpaw dipped her head. Stormpaw glanced over her shoulder and saw Pinefrost murmuring together with another elder, whose black fur had faded to a wispy gray at his points. Willowfur and Fawnstep were purring together, tail tips twitching in amusement at some shared joke.

               “I take it you’ve never been to a Gathering? Either of you?” Echobreeze asked. Both apprentices let out similar mews.

               “I’ve been to the island before,” Midnightpaw offered. “Fawnstep brought me here two days ago when we were looking for horsetail. The Twolegs by the river destroyed most of ours.”

               Stormpaw’s ears twitched. _I didn’t think Twolegs lived by the lake._ He had heard the warriors talk about them, and Flywing had warned him about them when he had first begun his training. Thankfully, they never ventured far into the forest, and the looming leaf-bare seemed to stave them off.

               “It’s awfully late in the season for the Twolegs to be out,” Echobreeze responded, black paws flexing as she stretched. Long, curled claws dug into the earth.

               “Fawnstep says they’re usually out until the first snow.” Midnightpaw shrugged. “Twolegs are strange.”

               Unwilling to say he’d never seen a Twoleg in the flesh, Stormpaw nodded along with the older she-cat.

               “Excuse me, young one.”

               Stormpaw turned and found himself nose to nose with a massive snow-white tom. Startled, he flattened his ears and took a wary step back, only to be met with a purr.

               “Pardon me,” he rumbled, deep meow contrasting wildly with the friendly gleam in his amber eyes. “I just didn’t want to step on your tail.”

               The white cat continued past him and, bunching his muscles, leapt up to grab onto the bark of the Great Spruce. In another easy movement, he was settled on the higher of the two branches. Stormpaw stared at the way his muscles rippled under his thick fur. _That leap was kitten’s play for him._

               “Who’s that?” he whispered to no cat in particular.

               “Whitestar,” Pinefrost responded, sitting down beside him. “FireClan’s leader. He’s a formidable opponent, and an even more formidable ally.”

               Splashstar was next, taking more than a few movements to claw his way up the tree to sit beside Whitestar, who moved to make room for him. He was dwarfed next to the huge white tom. A pretty gray she-cat followed, bringing with her the wet, fishy tang of the lake as she passed.

               “That’s Riverstar,” Midnightpaw mewed importantly. “She’s WaveClan’s leader.”

               Last was a dusty brown tom with dark eyes, who kept his gaze fixed upwards as he passed. He stopped to greet no cat, and settled down stiffly beside Riverstar. Even when the she-cat leaned in to mew in his ear, he only grunted in response, tail tip twitching.

               “And prickly Furzestar,” Echobreeze purred. “He’s a grumpy old badger.”

               As soon as Furzestar had taken his place, Tuftyears brushed past Stormpaw, flicking his ear with his tail tip. Three other cats followed him—a brown tabby tom with wide shoulders, a delicate gray and white she-cat, and a very gray tortoiseshell she-cat with a tuft of fur at the tip of her tail and thick fur around her neck.

               “Do the deputies sit up there too?” Midnightpaw asked.

               “On the lower branch,” Fawnstep affirmed. “That’s Tuftyears of HuntClan there, in front of Snakestrike of DarkClan. And then just behind Heathersong, that’s Lynxtail of FireClan.”

               Snakestrike seemed less prickly than his leader—as the deputies jumped up to the branch, he paused to touch noses with Heathersong and let Lynxtail squeeze past him to sit by Tuftyears.

               Almost before the deputies had settled, Splashstar rose to his paws and let out a loud yowl. It rang around the hollow and gained the attention of every cat in the clearing. They all began to settle, mews dying to whispers, and finally fading to silence.

               “Welcome to the last Gathering of leaf-fall,” Riverstar purred. “Who would like to go first?”

               “I will.” Whitestar rose to his paws, and Splashstar sat back down. “Prey is running well in FireClan, despite the prevalent chill that always comes this time of year. The wind from the mountains and the sea always chills the moor before any other territory.”

               Mutters of agreement spread through FireClan.

               “We have new kits in the nursery—Starlingheart had Robinkit, Pouncekit, Emberkit, and Dawnkit.”

               Startled murmurs rose from the crowd, and Pinefrost turned to look at Willowfur. “ _Four_ kits!”

               “And they were a _nightmare,_ ” Willowfur joked with a purr, rolling her eyes. “They were all as big as their father when Dapplepelt was little. Three toms and a she-kit.”

               “It’s a little late for queens to be having kits, isn’t it?” Echobreeze asked. As if to prove her point, a sharp, cold wind cut through the Gathering. Trees rattled and groaned, shuddering as they lost leaves. Stormpaw shook himself uncomfortably. Above their heads, all the deputies shivered, and Lynxtail fluffed out her fur. Stormpaw flicked his tail as a drifting leaf landed on it.

               “Here’s hoping they’re strong,” Fawnstep murmured.

               “We also have a new warrior,” Whitestar continued. “Tigerpaw has become Tigerblaze.”

               As yowls of the new warrior’s name rose into the air, Stormpaw stretched up on his hind legs to see. A big tabby tom was sitting near Foxtail and Whiskerfur, his nose in the air and pride evident in every fluffed-up hair on his pelt.

               _Is everyone in FireClan huge?_ he thought.

               Whitestar stepped back and Splashstar stepped up. “HuntClan has been thriving. We also have two new warriors—Foxtail and Whiskerfur.”

               Stormpaw raised his own voice in cheering for the two warriors, earning faint purrs from the rest of the medicine cats.

               “And two new apprentices from Skyleap’s kits—Petalpaw is training as a warrior, and Stormpaw is training as a medicine cat.” Splashstar looked down at him kindly.

               Stormpaw froze— _no cat told me that I would be called out as an apprentice!_ —and pressed himself to the ground as every cat yowled out his and his sister’s names.

               “About time! Pinefrost is older than most of your Clan!” some cat yowled, earning a ripple of laughter. Echobreeze snorted and Willowfur pushed at Pinefrost’s shoulder with a wide gray paw. He shook his head.

               “Flywing is also expecting kits,” Splashstar continued, tail waving for silence. “So we can expect more apprentices in the near future.”

               “Talk about no time for a queen having kits,” Fawnstep shot to Pinefrost. “Did no cat ever teach her not to have kittens in the dead of leaf-bare?”

               “With any luck, they’ll hold off until newleaf,” Pinefrost muttered.

               Riverstar took Splashstar’s place. “The Twolegs have lingered by the lake for longer than usual this season, scaring both the land prey and the fish from much of our southern border. We’ve adapted, and begun hunting with more vigor on the north and western borders.”

               “They’ve also crushed a lot of our herbs.”

               Stormpaw flicked an ear back out of habit as he heard Fawnstep whisper in Echobreeze’s ear.

               “All of the herbs in the dry beds down by the foot of the river have been mostly crushed by Twoleg kits and dogs,” she continued under Riverstar’s speaking. “We’ve been able to get a lot from the island, but we’ve got no horsetail, yarrow, or borage.”

               _That’s a problem,_ Stormpaw acknowledged inwardly. _Especially with leaf-bare so close, being short of any herb is a problem._ But he kept his thoughts to himself—by the hushed way Fawnstep was speaking, it was obvious it was for no-one’s ears but Echobreeze’s.

               Riverstar finished speaking after acknowledging Midnightpaw, and sat down. Furzestar stepped up almost before the cheers had died out.

               “DarkClan is well. No new apprentices or warriors to report, although Owlpaw is close to doing his assessment. We drove a dog fox over the border a few sunrises ago”—he turned to Splashstar—“so keep an eye out for it.”

               Splashstar dipped his head, although Stormpaw saw irritation spiking his tail. “Will do, Furzestar.”

               “If it was a couple sunrises ago, why did Furzestar wait until now to say something?” he heard Tuftyears mutter over their heads. Another cat made an indiscernible noise—probably Snakestrike, Stormpaw guessed.

               Furzestar stepped back after his short report, and Whitestar stood again. “Does any other cat have anything to report?”

               Stormpaw waited for Riverstar or Fawnstep to say something about their herb situation, but both she-cats remained silent. His paws itched. For some reason, their lack of herbs sent a chill into his stomach he couldn’t explain. _I’ll speak to Pinefrost about it when we get home._

               “If no cat has anything else, then the Gathering is at an end,” Whitestar announced, and leapt down from the tree. His paws made little noise on the clearing as he landed, easily supporting his heavy body. Murmurs grew again as cats began to mill about.

               “DarkClan!” Furzestar let out the yowl as he landed in the clearing. “To me! We’re going home.”

               “So soon?” Pinefrost asked, earning a glare form the leader thrown over his shoulder. His amber eyes were smoldering.

               “When I want advice on how to run my clan, I’ll ask my own medicine cat,” he growled, and stalked off. Echobreeze rose to her paws and stretched until her tail quivered.

               “Don’t mind him,” she soothed as Pinefrost bared his teeth at the leader’s turned back. “Things have been hard, and he’s on edge.”

               “Hard how?” Stormpaw asked, but Echobreeze was already walking off. Midnightpaw appeared at Stormpaw’s side, green eyes shining.

               “Would you like to come meet some of the other apprentices with me?” she asked, kneading her paws in the dirt. Stormpaw started to respond before Splashstar’s call echoed around the island.

               “HuntClan! Prepare to leave! We have a long walk back.”

               “Oh, mouse-dung,” Midnightpaw sighed. “Next time!” She quickly touched her nose to Stormpaw’s cheek, warm breath tickling his fur, before she bounded away. Stormpaw was suddenly reminded of Aspenpaw. His paws tingled again, but this time it was unpleasant.

               _I feel badly for still letting her pad after me. I’m a medicine cat now. I can’t take a mate._ The thought flipped his stomach, and he stared after Midnightpaw where she had joined a group of WaveClan and FireClan apprentices. _I need to tell her that._

               His gaze was drawn to the departing DarkClan. Two cats bringing up the rear were side by side, tails twined and pelts brushing. As they stood, waiting, he turned and rested his head on the she-cat’s shoulder. In turn, she licked his ears. Stormpaw could hear their purring.

               _The path of a medicine cat is a lonely one._

               The sudden realization, and the decision he knew he had to make, weighed on his paws the entire walk back to camp.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormpaw makes a decision.

Most of the Clan was thankfully asleep when they returned. The moon had long since disappeared behind the trees, leaving their walk back mostly in the dark. Stormpaw was grateful for when they emerged back into the camp. His paws were aching and he was exhausted.

               He was halfway across the clearing to the medicine den when a high-pitched meow of his name sounded behind him. Stomach knotting, Stormpaw turned.

               _Aspenpaw._ Her black pelt nearly blended into the night, but the starlight reflected off of her amber eyes and white paws. She purred as she brushed up against him. Stormpaw pressed his nose into her scruff, relishing in her warm scent, before he realized what he was doing. Quickly, he stepped back.

               “How was everything here?” he asked before she could come up to him again. She tipped her head.

               “Quiet, as usual,” she replied. “Badgerpaw was scared by an owl on the edge of the clearing—you should have seen him jump!” Aspenpaw purred. “How was the Gathering?”

               “Fine, fine.” He dipped his head. “I’m exhausted; I’ll see you tomorrow.”

               He tried not to see the hurt in her eyes as he turned away, and pushed through the low-hanging fern curtain to disappear into the darkness of the den inside. The murmurs of the camp faded into silence as the curtain fell into place behind him. Stormpaw settled in his nest with a heavy sigh, tucking his tail over his nose.

               His heart was aching almost as much as his paws. Aspenpaw’s upset gaze was burned into the back of his mind, and guilt was ripping his stomach to shreds. _I hate that I have to do that to her, but I can’t let her keep padding after me._ _She’ll get hurt either way—best to do it now._

               Pinefrost came in a few heartbeats later. He stood at the entrance to the den; Stormpaw could hear his tail twitching over the ground.

               “Are you awake?” he mewed softly.

               Stormpaw didn’t move. He heard the old medicine cat turn in circles in his nest before dropping down with a grunt. It didn’t take long for his breathing to even out, signaling his drop into sleep.

               Stormpaw sighed, ruffling the fur on his tail. _I can’t talk to Petalpaw, I can’t be with Aspenpaw. I don’t feel close enough to Pinefrost to talk to him about it._ He tucked up tighter, feeling his paws start to shake. _I’ve never felt more alone._

 

The next morning dawned bright, but with the scent of rain on the wind. Stormpaw stepped out of the medicine den and fluffed his fur out, shaking the tiredness from his bones. As he stretched, arching his tail over his back, he let his gaze travel the camp.

               Pinefrost was laying on the Flatrock with Flowerear, watching as Yulethorn felt around the remains of the fresh-kill pile. Dustfur, Morningflower, Dappledawn, and Sunfur were milling about by the camp entrance. Jaypaw hauled himself out of the apprentices’ den and trotted over, yawning widely. Badgerpaw and Aspenpaw were wrestling on the edge of the clearing; he could hear their playful snarling from where he stood. Splashstar and Tuftyears were talking near the Tallrock; as he watched, the deputy turned to the dawn patrol and ducked out the tunnel. They all followed.

               “Stormpaw,” Pinefrost called. He headed over, yawning. _Hope the rain holds off for the better part of today_ , he thought, glancing up. The sky was clear now, but the air smelled heavy and wet.

               “We’re out of moss in the den,” he continued as Stormpaw approached, mewing a greeting to Flowerear. “Can you take another cat with you and gather some? As much as you can carry would be good—if it rains, it’s all going to be wet for several days. I want to gather it before then.”

               He bought back a groan. His paws still hurt from the Gathering the night before, and the moss patch was most of the way across the territory. _Why can’t you gather your own moss?_ “Sure,” Stormpaw nodded. “I’ll get something to eat and then go.”

               “Good luck,” Yulethorn muttered, returning to the elder’s rock. He set down two thrushes and a vole. “All that’s left is a pretty flat mouse. The hunting patrols haven’t come back yet.”

               _Fox-dung, of course._ He frowned as his stomach growled in protest. “I’ll take someone with me who can hunt, then,” he muttered, only half kidding. He turned away, searching the clearing for Badgerpaw and Petalpaw.

               “Oh, Stormpaw. See if you can find some horsetail while you’re out.”

               _We’ve been able to get a lot from the island, but we’ve got no horsetail, yarrow, or borage._

               Stormpaw paused and then turned around at the sudden memory. “Pinefrost, can, uh—” He stopped as the old cat glanced up from his vole. _I won’t interrupt his breakfast._ “Uh, never mind. I just had a question, but I can ask you later.”

               Without waiting for a response, Stormpaw bounded toward the apprentice’s den. Although the wind was chilly and the air was damp, the strong sun warmed his spine and soaked into his fur. He poked his head into the den, squinting in the half-light.

               “Petalpaw? Badgerpaw?” he called.

               “Only me.” His heart skipped as Aspenpaw rose from her nest in the back, stretching. “I think they went out on the hunting patrol. Did you need something?”

               Stormpaw hesitated in saying no. _This would actually be a good time to talk to her._ “W-Well, Pinefrost asked me to gather some moss, and I figured I would take another cat…”

               “I’ll come with you if you like.” She padded out of the den as he backed out. Her delicate frame cast an equally delicate shadow as she stretched in the weak sunlight. “It’s been a while since we’ve been in the forest together!”

               _Maybe there’s a reason for that._ Swallowing jitters, Stormpaw could only nod. She reached out and brushed their muzzles delicately.

               “We can catch something to eat while we’re out there,” she offered, blinking luminous amber eyes at him. “Come on! Let’s go.” She bounded toward the camp entrance. Stormpaw followed more slowly, aware of Pinefrost’s gaze boring into him.

               _Let me be my own cat!_ Despite his sore paws, he put on a burst of speed and leapt after Aspenpaw. _I can make my own decisions!_

               He caught up with Aspenpaw once the scents of the hollow had faded behind them. He could taste the scent trail the dawn patrol left. _I don’t want to catch up to them._

               “Let’s go this way,” he suggested, veering off down a side path. Aspenpaw made a faintly confused noise, and Stormpaw took momentary pause. _Did I pick the wrong way?_

               “This is a fairly long path to get there, isn’t it?” is what she asked, coming up to his side. Stormpaw didn’t respond. He was too busy thinking about what he was going to say to her. _Aspenpaw, I’m a medicine cat now. That means I can’t take a mate. That means we can’t be together. The sooner we accept that—_

“Stormpaw?” She stopped walking, and he turned to face her. “Is something wrong?” she asked, her amber eyes sparkling. He swallowed. Fear was knotting his belly and making it hard to breathe. _I don’t know if I can handle disappointing another cat._

               He steeled himself. He had lain awake most of the night before thinking about what he was going to say. _I’ve got to do something right._ “Aspenpaw, I want to talk about—feelings.”

               She tipped her head. “Alright?”

               _Off to a flying start. Great job, mouse-brain._ “Wh-What I mean is—” He sighed and sat down heavily. “Aspenpaw, I’m a medicine cat. That means that I can’t take a mate. It says so in the warrior code.”

               Realization dawned on her. “Is that why you’ve been so distant lately?” she purred. “That’s all? I thought I did something and you were upset with me!”

               His heart stuttered, and his mouth fell open. “What?”

               “We’re not doing anything wrong by being Clanmates,” she continued, blinking gently at him. Aspenpaw stepped forward and brushed their cheeks together. Her warm breath tickled his whiskers. “There’s nothing wrong with us collecting moss together.”

               His nerves relaxed almost immediately. “I—guess there’s not.” Stormpaw returned the pressure, letting her purrs echo in his ears. _We’re just Clanmates._ “And there’s nothing in the code that says we can’t go on patrols together, or share tongues.”

               “And who knows?” She blinked mischievously at him. “Maybe after I help you gather your plants and moss, I can teach you how to hunt.”

               He growled playfully, aiming a swipe at her with his claws sheathed. “I know how to hunt, cheeky furball!”

               “Oh yeah?” She ducked under his outstretched paw and took off down the path. “If you can catch me, you can probably catch a squirrel!”

               With renewed vigor, Stormpaw tore after her, purring. _She’s right! We’re not doing anything wrong by just being Clanmates._

 

Aspenpaw set down the bundle of moss she was carrying and put her nose in the air. “Smell that?”

               Stormpaw set down his own bundle. His feet, still sore from the Gathering, ached anew after they worked to peel the moss back from where it grew on the tree roots of the moss-place. He took the opportunity to sit down and tasted the air. It took a heartbeat, but the scent of something warm and alive flooded his mouth and made his stomach growl. _Mouse._

               Aspenpaw pointed with her tail, and Stormpaw followed her gaze. The leaf-litter was rustling under one of the chestnut trees, and a moment later, a small pink nose poked out.

               She dropped into a hunting crouch. Stormpaw stayed still as a rock. _If I move at all, with my luck, it’ll see me and flee._

               Painfully slowly, pawstep by pawstep, Aspenpaw drew herself forward. Stormpaw let his gaze trail over her sleek black pelt and pristine white paws, down to the tip of her long, slender tail. He tried to suppress a purr. _She looks so pretty in the sunlight._

               Aspenpaw leapt. Stormpaw jumped, lost in thought, and rose to his feet as the mouse’s squeal was cut off abruptly. She stood up with the creature dangling from her jaws, a triumphant gleam in her eye.

               “Breakfast,” he purred as she dropped it in front of him.

               “You can have this one,” she offered. “I’ll catch another.”

               He frowned. “Are you sure?”

               She nodded. “There’s a lot of mice near the roots of the chestnut tree where all the nuts are—they’re all stocking up before leaf-bare, probably.”

               She turned away and Stormpaw crouched down, taking a big bite from the mouse. It was still warm and sweet, with a bit of a nutty tang. It was fat, which Stormpaw was grateful for—if Pinefrost didn’t have him traipsing about the territory all day, it would last him until the evening.

               He was nearly finished when Aspenpaw returned with her own mouse. He washed his whiskers while she ate, basking in the sunlight that pooled through the trees. It warmed his thick pelt, and he fluffed it up to catch more. _It’s a lovely day._

               She finally sat up, purring as she licked her chops.

               “I love hunting here,” Aspenpaw mewed. “The mice are always out and about, and too focused on the chestnuts to worry about cats!”

               Stormpaw stretched. “We should probably get the moss back before it rains.”

               “Is there anything else you needed while we’re here?” Aspenpaw asked. Stormpaw paused mid-stretch, working his claws in the ground. _Fox-dung, I think there was. What did Pinefrost want me to get? It wasn’t…chervil? No…_

               “Any herb?” she prompted when he was silent, curling her black tail around her paws. “I don’t know a lot of herbs, but I can try listing some.” She thought for a moment. “Okay, um… Poppy seeds.”

               Stormpaw shook his head.

               “Um, thyme? Marigold. Blackberry. Uh…borage?”

               _We’ve got no horsetail, yarrow, or borage._

               “Horsetail,” Stormpaw said suddenly, cutting off whatever Aspenpaw was going to say next. “It was horsetail.”

               “Where does that grow?” she asked, amber eyes glowing in the sunshine.

               “Uh…” Stormpaw turned in a circle, frowning. _Curse my StarClan-forsaken memory._ He could picture the plant, growing in thick clumps where the ground was peaty underfoot. The plants in the den smelled of mud and something else. Bigger, gentler beasts. _Horses!_ “By the barn near the Twolegplace.” He nodded to reassure himself.

               Aspenpaw stopped in her washing of her paws. “That’s outside of the territory.”

               “It’s the closest place it grows. I…think.”

               “That’s going to be a long walk,” she warned. “Let’s take this moss back and then we can come out again. If I’m gone much longer, Twisttail might start worrying, and I don’t know if she planned on us training today.”

               Stormpaw saw the sense in her words, although part of him panged with sadness. _I like being out here in the forest with you, though._ He nodded, picking his moss back up. Beckoning with his tail, he moved away from the chestnut tree, in the direction of the hollow. Aspenpaw was close behind, and every now and then his tail would brush against her fur.

               When they arrived back at the bramble tunnel, he paused to let her go first. She paused beside him, brushing their cheeks together with a purr before disappearing inside. Stomach knotting, Stormpaw followed.

               Most of the Clan was dozing in the sun, and the size of the fresh-kill pile showed that the hunting patrol had been more than successful. Pinefrost stood up off the Flatrock as they headed for the medicine den, meeting them halfway. Aspenpaw laid down her bundle with a nod.

               “Hi, Pinefrost.”

               “You two took your time,” he grumbled, shooting Stormpaw a look. “Twisttail was looking for you.”

               “We didn’t get any horsetail,” Stormpaw put in. “We were going to go back out—”

               “Take some other cat with you,” Pinefrost growled. Aspenpaw flattened her ears and Stormpaw was taken aback. _What’s he gotten so riled up for?_

               “Aspenpaw!”

               Both apprentices turned as Tuftyears came up with Twisttail at his side. The she-cat’s tail was twitching irritably.

               “It’s past sunhigh,” she snapped. “Where on Earth did you get to without telling any cat?”

               “I was gathering moss with Stormpaw!” Aspenpaw insisted. Stormpaw mewed a faint agreement.

               “I asked Stormpaw to take some cat with him,” Pinefrost put in. “I didn’t think to tell you, Twisttail. That’s my fault.”

               “You’ve been gone the whole morning and gotten two bundles?” Twisttail snapped. “Come on—you’ve missed a whole morning of training. Your brothers are already out at the training hollow with Sunfur and Oakfur.” She turned and stalked away without waiting for a response. Aspenpaw shot the medicine cats an apologetic look and bounded after her mentor. Stormpaw tried not to be upset as her pretty black tail bobbed away.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stormpaw goes on an adventure for horsetail, and ends up biting off more than he can handle.

               “Where’s Petalpaw?” Stormpaw asked Pinefrost. “If I’m going back out for the horsetail, I can take her with me.”

               “She’s out hunting,” Tuftyears put in. “Where do you need to go?”

               “The barn by Twolegplace, where the horses are,” Pinefrost sighed. “My old bones won’t carry me there, which is why I sent Stormpaw.”

               “That’s off the territory,” Tuftyears meowed, surprised.

               “I know, but the horsetail by the foot of the river all dried up when it was hot this greenleaf, and they haven’t had time to grow back,” Pinefrost reminded him. “The plants by the Horseplace are in a ditch, where it’s usually wet. They’re thick and healthy there.”

               “That’s too far to send two apprentices,” Tuftyears remarked. His gaze turned to Stormpaw, who had been following the back-and-forth like a kit follows a butterfly. “I’ll go with you.”

               His heart skipped. _The Clan deputy!_ “Y-You don’t have to,” he stammered. “If you have other things to do, I can take some other cat—”

               Tuftyears was already shaking his head. “I can have some other cat lead the dusk patrol. Besides, I’m more familiar with that side of the territory than you and your sister are. It doesn’t bother me, and it would put my mind at ease.”

               Pinefrost blinked appreciatively. “It would put my mind at ease too. Thank you for the offer, Tuftyears.”

               “Let me go tell Splashstar and find another cat to take my place on patrol,” he said, “and then I’ll meet you by the thorn tunnel.” He turned and padded off toward the Tallrock, and Splashstar’s den in the bush behind it.

               “Help me bring this into the den,” Pinefrost grunted, bending to pick up one of the moss bundles. Stormpaw gathered his own and padded after the old calico. _Why do I feel like I’m about to get scolded?_

               They put the moss away in relative silence, and Pinefrost sat down. “What did you want to tell me this morning?”

               … _What?_

               Pinefrost looked at him impatiently, his tail-tip twitching on the ground. “When I was on the Flatrock, you turned to ask me something, and then stopped. What was it?”

               _Oh._ “I was just thinking about…” He hesitated. _I can’t explain why it turns my stomach._ “About, um… Well, did you hear what Fawnstep said at the Gathering? How WaveClan was out of herbs?”

               “And I also heard about how they’re getting them from the island,” Pinefrost dismissed. “Is _that_ all?”

               “Well, Fawnstep told—uh—Echobreeze that they didn’t have any horsetail or borage, or yarrow,” Stormpaw listed, fidgeting. “Shouldn’t we help them?”

               “What for? Twolegs always crush the plants by the river. They do it every season, and they’ll do it for seasons more.” Pinefrost stood. “With leaf-bare so close, we need to keep our own stores as stocked as possible. WaveClan will figure it out. If they couldn’t, they all would have died by now.”

               “But isn’t it our job to live between Clan borders?” Stormpaw argued. “Why should we condemn WaveClan to suffering when we can fix them? You said it yourself, there’s plenty of horsetail at the Horseplace—”

               “And I suppose you want to be the one to tell Splashstar that we’re gong to give up our precious few herbs, this close to leaf-bare, to a rival Clan?” Pinefrost demanded, lashing his tail. “Give it up, Stormpaw. Fawnstep and Midnightpaw are more than capable of handling their own Clan.”

               “Pinefrost, I don’t think—”

               “If I want your opinion on how to run my medicine den, I’ll ask!” Pinefrost snarled, baring his teeth. Stormpaw shrank back, flattening his ears and hissing faintly, startled. He raised a paw defensively. Pinefrost stared at him for a long moment before whipping around.

               Without waiting to be dismissed, Stormpaw turned and bolted from the medicine den, pelt prickling.

               Stormpaw slowed as he burst into the clearing, blinking in the sunhigh light. The clouds that had been gathering all morning had all but dispersed, although the scent of rain lingered. _Maybe it will hold off until tonight._

               Pelt still ruffled, Stormpaw dropped down at the foot of the Tallrock and began grooming his chest fur. _Mouse-brained Pinefrost._

               “Something bothering you?”

               Stormpaw looked up. Petalpaw sat down beside him, blinking gently.

               “Just—Pinefrost and I got into it,” he grumbled, unwilling to talk any further. Petalpaw seemed to understand, thankfully, and pressed her side to his comfortingly.

               “I went out training with Badgerpaw and Jaypaw today,” she began as Stormpaw continued to groom himself. “We learned some new battle moves, and went hunting. Jaypaw nearly caught a _crow_.”

               Stormpaw snorted. “He’s the _size_ of a crow.”

               “Which is why he didn’t catch it,” Petalpaw purred. “It almost took off with him. What are you waiting here for?”

               “Tuftyears,” Stormpaw replied, yawning. “I have to go to the Twoleg barn off the territory to get some horsetail, and he’s going with me.”

               “Wow, an adventure with the Clan deputy,” Petalpaw remarked, ears twitching.

               “A long one,” he sighed. His bones were aching and he wanted to nap. _This day is getting longer and longer._ Both apprentices glanced up as Tuftyears squeezed out from the warriors’ den and trotted over.

               “Ready, Stormpaw? I got Sunfur to take my place.” He nodded to Petalpaw. “How’s your training going?”

               “Really well! Firefall taught me how to take down a cat twice my size today,” she bragged, eyes sparkling.

               “That’s always useful to know,” Tuftyears responded kindly. “If you’ll excuse us, we’ve got a long way to go and come back before dark.”

               Petalpaw touched her nose to Stormpaw’s, mewing a good-bye as she watched them head out the tunnel. Stormpaw tried to hide his exhaustion, but nervousness trilled through his legs. _I’m on a mission with the Clan deputy. No other apprentice has done this! I should be thrilled!_

               Stormpaw shot the senior warrior a gaze out of the corner of his eye. Tuftyears had his ears pricked, amber eyes scanning the forest around them. His tail was held high and he moved like his paws were lighter than air.

               Stormpaw cleared his throat. “Uh—thanks for coming with me,” he tried awkwardly. _I’ve never spoken to Tuftyears before in my life._

               “It’s nothing,” he responded, meow light. “I’m actually excited. It’s been too long since I’ve been out in the forest like this. Usually the only time I ever get out of camp is on a patrol, anymore.”

               “Really?” Stormpaw asked, leaping easily over a fallen tree limb.

               “Oh yeah,” Tuftyears affirmed. “My duties as deputy keep me in camp a lot, and I’m usually on patrol. If I’m not patrolling, I’m busy doing assessments or resting to go on patrol _later._ ”

               “That’s—frustrating,” Stormpaw replied. He couldn’t imagine not being able to go be in the forest on his own, or whenever he wanted to.

               “It is what it is,” Tuftyears replied with a shrug. His eyes scanned the woods around them. “Part of my job as deputy.”

               “Splashstar doesn’t seem to leave camp a lot either,” Stormpaw mused. He couldn’t recall the last time before the Gathering he had seen the leader out of the hollow. _Though, with my memory, that’s not surprising._

               “Splashstar—is very tired.” Tuftyears’s meow dropped to a quiet rumble, making Stormpaw look at him. A strange expression had crossed his face and his gaze grew distant. “And it’s no surprise why.”

               “Isn’t it?” he ventured to ask. He couldn’t help but feel he was overstepping his boundaries as an apprentice. _But you are a medicine cat apprentice,_ some part of him whispered. _You’re allowed to know things other cats and apprntices usually aren’t._

               Tuftyears didn’t respond immediately, instead saying, “Tree”, and veering to the side. Stormpaw went to the other side of the large ash in front of them, and they reconvened once past it. Dodging a bramble bush, Stormpaw took a step closer to the deputy, their shoulders bumping.

               “Splashstar’s mate died last leaf-bare,” Tuftyears finally said. “When greencough hit the camp. She got so sick she was coughing up blood—Pinefrost called it redcough. It also took one of Splashstar’s lives, his mother, and a handful of other cats. Ever since then, Splashstar has been—not quite himself.

               “When Splashstar was a warrior—I was just a ‘paw when Hawkstar died, and Splashstar succeeded her—his name was Splashheart. He was one of the bravest, most formidable warriors HuntClan had at our disposal. He was at the head of every hunting party, of every border patrol and every battle party. His sister, Thistlefur, was my mentor, and he and I grew close as a result of it.

               “His mate was a she-cat called Ravenclaw. She was a beautiful she-cat, and one of the most popular cats in the Clan.” Tuftyears sighed. “I won’t say I wasn’t jealous when he took her as a mate—Ravenclaw was only a couple of moons older than I, and I liked her a lot. She never paid me any mind, though.”

               He paused here, drawing to a stop. “We’re at the border.”

               Stormpaw tasted the air, wrinkling his nose at the thick, freshly laid scent markers. Tuftyears stepped over them into the unmarked forest, and after a small hesitation, Stormpaw followed. He could see the end of the trees up ahead. They moved on slower now, Tuftyears slightly ahead, all senses alert.

               “So was some cat the deputy before you?” Stormpaw asked, sensing the waves of sadness from the deputy the more he talked about Ravenclaw.

               “Ironically, Pinefrost’s sister, Juniperfur was,” Tuftyears responded. “Splashstar made me a warrior, and only a couple of seasons later, Juniperfur was killed.”

               “How?” Stormpaw inquired, tripping over a root. “Ow, fox-dung.”

               “Badger. She was out with Pinefrost in the forest one day, and a setting badger surprised them. Pinefrost didn’t have much warrior training—Waterleaf had never trained as a warrior, so he didn’t have a lot of fighting skills to teach Pinefrost—and the badger killed Juniperfur. Pinefrost managed to get back to the camp and get help, but we were too late. She was dead by the time we got back to her.”

               Stormpaw was silent. His interactions with gentle Juniperfur seemed much more telling now—that she could be as gentle and kind as she was, despite her horrible end.

               “That rattled Splashstar hard. He almost missed moonhigh that night—tradition says that when a deputy dies or resigns, the new deputy must be named by moonhigh. He consulted with no cat before naming me, not even myself; it was a very short ceremony, and the rest of Juniperfur’s vigil was held in silence. Since then, he’s been getting more and more distant. It was worse when he lost his most recent life.”

               “How many lives does Splashstar have left?” he asked, curiosity pulling at his paws. Tuftyears turned and glanced at him.

               “That’s not information for every cat,” he rumbled. Stormpaw hesitated.

               “As—a medicine cat, I feel like I should know,” he ventured.

               Tuftyears faced front. “Two,” he replied. “When he lost his seventh last leaf-bare, it made him withdraw into himself. I don’t know what happened when he ventured back into StarClan then, but he was a changed cat. Less aggressive, quieter, defaulting to my judgement more and more. I fear for what happens when he loses his eighth.”

               Tuftyears stopped, holding out his tail to stop Stormpaw. “There’s the horse barn.”

               Massive Twoleg fences sprung out of the earth in front of them, stretching for many tree-lengths in every direction. The horse barn was set at the edge of the clearing, the only visible creatures some large black horses. Pinefrost had told Stormpaw about them, and warned him to stay away from their feet.

               “They’ll crush a cat’s spine if they step on you,” Tuftyears warned, as if he could hear Stormpaw’s thoughts. “So don’t let them get near you.”

               With that grim warning, Tuftyears stepped out into the grass, staying close to the edge of the fence. Stormpaw followed close behind, relishing in the soft, lush grass underfoot. The open plain made it an easy run, and the wind streamed through his whiskers easily. It revitalized him and took the ache from his bones.

               They drew to a halt at the corner of the fence—here, it was an open streak to the barn, and subsequently the ditch where the horsetail grew. Stormpaw had almost forgotten what they were there for. Tuftyears glanced around, flicked his tail, and leapt into motion. Stormpaw bolted after him, stomach tightening as he heard a horse growl from inside the barn.

               “Do you know what the horsetail looks like?” Tuftyears asked as they crouched on the slope of the ditch. The grass grew taller the closer to the bottom of the ditch, and the stench of the horses was overpowering. Stormpaw nodded, and Tuftyears took up a position at the crest of the ditch, ears perked.

               “Grab as much as you can, and we’ll both take a load back,” he called. Stormpaw padded down to the bottom of the ditch, shivering as murky brown water soaked his paws. He paused to irritably shake it from his pads, growling to himself as they just soaked through again. He padded up to the leafy green horsetail stalks and crouched to bite them off at the ground.

               He jerked his head up a couple times as the horses made noise, and froze once as he heard the faint shriek of a Twoleg.

               “Just a kit, and it’s at the Twoleg nest way over there,” Tuftyears reassured him.

               Sufficiently loaded, Stormpaw carried the massive bundle to the crest of the ditch, where Tuftyears split it in half and took his. Stormpaw’s belly grumbled as the wind changed, bringing the scent of mouse with it.

               “Can we hunt?” he asked, continuing as Tuftyears looked at him: “I’ve only had one mouse today, and it was before sunhigh. The barn’s probably full of them, and I’m sure the Twolegs won’t miss one or two.”

               Tuftyears hesitated and then gave a resigned nod. “If you’re hungry now, you’ll be miserable on the walk back. We’ll go catch something, but quickly, and then we’re leaving.” His pelt spiked as he glanced around. “I don’t like being here.”

               Leaving the horsetail by the ditch, they hurried to the side of the barn. The scent of horse was almost overpowering the mouse trails, and both toms paused to take long mouthfuls of air. Stormpaw noticed a skinny pink tail poking out beneath a bush, and immediately dropped into a hunting crouch like Flywing had taught him.

               “Do you see—” Tuftyears hesitated. Stormpaw drew himself forward, slowly, slowly, his mouth watering. He bunched his muscles, and had just sprung when Tuftyears yowled, “No, wait!”

               One of his paws landed on the tail and he reached with his other paw to scoop it out. But it was not a mouse. With a horrible shriek, a massive brown creature with hideous yellow teeth spun and snarled at him, little clawed feet sinking into his foot. Stormpaw yowled in surprise, bringing a paw down hard on the huge creature.

               The thing recoiled from the blow, but lunged forward and sank its teeth deep into his foreleg. Stormpaw shrieked, flailing as he jerked backwards. The thing held on, tearing his skin and sending jolts of white-hot pain up his foreleg. Tuftyears barreled into him, almost knocking him off his paws, and sank his teeth hard into the wiry brown neck. The creature gave a jerk and was still. Tuftyears dropped it, panting.

               Stormpaw staggered backwards, gasping as his head spun with pain. He felt blood pouring down his leg and each time he put it to the ground, the immense pain almost made him black out. Tuftyears hurried to his side, supporting him as he nearly fell over.

               “What was that?” Stormpaw whimpered, bending to lap at the wound. Each time his tongue rasped over it, the salty taste of blood turned his stomach and his paw throbbed.

               “A rat,” Tuftyears growled, staring at the lifeless brown body. “I know DarkClan eats them sometimes, but they’re horrible to catch. They can do a lot of damage in very little time, and they carry disease.” He turned his attention back to the wound in Stormpaw’s leg. “Are you okay?”

               “I c-can’t put my paw down,” Stormpaw stammered, feeling the throbbing of his heart to the tips of his ears. His body started to quake. “T-Tuftyears—”

               “Don’t panic,” Tuftyears cut him off. “Has Pinefrost taught you any herbs to put on rat bites?”

               “Until now, I didn’t even know what a rat was!” Stormpaw was hardly aware of his voice soaring. “And I can’t walk!”

               “Stormpaw.” Tuftyears put his face in the apprentice’s, waiting until their eyes were locked. “Do not panic. Think, very clearly. If this was a wound on me, what would you do to fix it?”

               Stormpaw sucked in a few gulping breaths, in time with his heartbeat. “Cobwebs to stop the bleeding, and thyme for shock,” he listed, like he was responding to one of Pinefrost’s quizzes. “Poppy seeds for pain, and horsetail poultice under the cobwebs to stem bleeding and prevent infection.”

               “Good thing we came here for horsetail,” Tuftyears said dryly. “Sit here. I’ll go get the horsetail and find some cobwebs.” He bounded away, and Stormpaw sat down heavily.

               “What’s all the noise?”

               Stormpaw turned suddenly, flattening himself to the ground. A gray tomcat with a darker stripe down his spine was standing at the corner of the barn, ears forward and paw raised. Stormpaw hissed, trying his best to look threatening.

               “Relax, boy,” the tom sighed, rolling his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you any more than the rat did.”

               Tuftyears bounded back with a mouthful of the horsetail, and bristled when he saw the tom. He dropped the horsetail and drew himself up, standing between Stormpaw and the loner. “Greetings. Is this your territory?”

               “Sure, guess you could call it that. I’m Parsley,” he offered. “I live in this barn.”

               “I’m Tuftyears, and this is Stormpaw,” he responded. “We’ll be on our way as soon as we get Stormpaw’s leg fixed.”

               “Did that rat bite you?” Parsley asked, peering around Tuftyears’s shoulder. Stormpaw didn’t respond, glancing up at the deputy. Tuftyears never took his eyes off of Parsley.

               “We’ll be on our way soon,” Tuftyears repeated. His tail was twitching.

               “He ain’t going to be going anywhere,” Parsley snorted. “You want him to walk all the way back to wherever you came from on that leg? He won’t make it to the other side of the fence.” He sat down. “You need to put burdock on it, or it’ll get infected.”

               “Burdock?” The word stirred something in Stormpaw’s memory, like something that was mentioned in passing. Parsley nodded.

               “Burdock root for rat bites,” he responded. Tuftyears glanced at Stormpaw, then back at Parsley.

               “What do you recommend, then?” he asked warily.

               “Come into the barn,” Parsley responded, green eyes calm and even with Tuftyears’s amber ones. He was completely unafraid of the deputy—Stormpaw admired that. “Let me get some burdock to put on that bite. Rest here overnight”—he glanced up at the sky, which was darkening with not just twilight but rainclouds too—“have some dinner, and then leave in the morning. Give his leg a chance to rest.”

               Tuftyears hesitated. “We really should be going—”

               “Tuftyears.” Stormpaw was aware of his voice, high-pitched and pinched with pain. The tom turned. “I can’t get all the way back to the hollow like this. It’ll take all night, and it’s going to rain.”

               The deputy inhaled slowly, then turned back to Parsley. Then he nodded. “I appreciate it, Parsley. Thank you.”


End file.
